Harry Potter and the Child Saving Angels
by PigeonChicks
Summary: Update: Grieving over the loss of Hermione, will our heroes get over the tragedy and manage to defeat Voldemort? Or will Hogwarts fall? Secrets are revealed and loyalties are questioned as everything comes to a head in this thrilling final installment.
1. The Foreign Exchange Students

**Chapter 1: The Foreign Exchange Students**

Canada is the wallflower at the dance. It's always there, it has a nice personality, but no one wants to talk to it. And since it's so polite, it will just hang back, leaning against the wall – trying not to get in the way and quietly hoping that one day someone will come and want to dance.

In the magical community, the image was not all maple syrup and Mounties.

There was a long-standing tradition of showing up to International Magical Assemblies (IMAs) late, inebriated, and angry. It was not uncommon at all for the Prime Magical-ministers of yore to yell out hurtful things to the leaders of the other nations. It got to the point (after the attempts at enticing Canada's political leaders into AA meetings failed) that Canada was no longer welcome in the magical community.

Depressed, and mostly still drunk, the concerned Prime Magical-minister Gerald H. Hasenpfeffer, hurt and alone, adopted an extreme isolationist policy and increased federal funding to the magical military to 80%. Education didn't need any of that money.

The magical people of Canada, sensitive to his hurt feelings, didn't do anything about it. It was thus that Canada descended into a magical age of darkness for several decades until the even darker darkness of Voldemort's reign of terror descended on Europe.

As his agents were able to enter the country, they caused death, mayhem, and riots. Once it was all over and Canada had access to the wanted posters, the nation began to consider the idea that perhaps an isolationist policy had lead to the senseless tragedies.

While it was still being debated in the Magical House of Commons, the general consensus among the people had shifted towards the idea of international involvement. Canada, its heart broken, was now on the mend and ready to ask that good-looking Belgium to dance.

* * *

Prime Magical-minister Ralph Heineken sat in a large chamber at the head of a long, long rectangular table. Seated far at the other end of said table was another man in his late thirties. The Prime Magical-minister leaned back in his cushy, swiveling, many–buttoned chair and addressed the other man.

"Well, Trex…What do you think?" He asked.

Trex paused and steepled his fingers.

"Well," he chose his words carefully, hoping to avoid a magical firing squad, "I'm not entirely convinced of the rational thought processes behind this idea, but if _He Who Shall Not Be Named_ truly is back then we must help in any way we can. It may be happening in England now, but it will soon become the world's problem."

"Those arrogant English Wizards are far too proud and prejudiced to accept any help we offer. They never returned my calls regarding the proposed project by my friend George the high school dropout who wants to build a bridge – figuratively and literally – between our two great nations! The magnificence of our idea was just too much for them. They clearly don't know how to do their job." The Prime Magical-minister sniffed. Trex raised an eyebrow in disapproval. The Prime Magical-minister noticed this and coughed nervously but made no apology for his statement.

"Yes, completely different from us. This is nothing like when the Bohemian Bog Beast was terrorizing downtown Toronto and we refused any foreign aid, or even when a sea monster sank half of Vancouver Island and we wouldn't allow the French experts on the subject to enter our borders. No, you're completely right…. Our leadership is so much more spot-on than theirs is." Trex said dryly.

"Exactly!" The Prime Magical-minister beamed, somewhat missing the sarcasm.

Trex gave an exasperated sigh and took a moment to massage his temples. There was nothing like a true politician…

"Anyway… I've already selected four of our top students for the mission."

Trex was the head of the Athabasca Military Academy of Magic, an offshoot of the actual military aimed at seamlessly integrating students after graduation. The maladjusted misfits that entered the school were incapable of getting normal, socially-acceptable jobs, so it was widely agreed that he was doing a public service. Despite his lack of funding due to political corruption (who _doesn't _need a villa?) the wall of his shack-like office was lined with shiny awards recognizing his distinguished service to his country…that he couldn't sell because they weren't really made of gold.

Trex handed the Prime Magical-minister the files he had put together on the selected students.

"So could you walk me through the reasons for your selection?" He asked upon receiving them.

Trex stared at the files he'd spent hours preparing and sighed for the umpteenth time during the course of the meeting.

"Well…. You could read the files, but I guess since you're such a _busy_ man I can summarize them for you." Trex then continued, well aware of the Prime Magical-minister's illiteracy.

"Before I read you the files, I would just like to say that I protest sending children on this undercover mission to England. Surely we have capable people in the military now who could pass for teenagers and infiltrate Hogwarts. It's really rather senseless, and a needless endangerment of the young lives of my students." Trex was tense, struggling to hide his contempt.

"Ah, you worry too much, Trex. The birth rate is higher than ever! Even if all of them died, there'd be twice as many on the way. Really, with your liberal sensibilities nothing would ever get done in this country." Prime Magical-minister Heineken shook his head in amusement.

The papers crumpled a bit in Trex's shaking hands, but he began to read in a calm, steady voice,

"Bridgit Firecatcher. Age fifteen, height 5'6", weight: none of your damn business. Top of her class (class 5-7) expertise in weapons and projectiles. She is a product of the inadequate foster system you created who followed me home one day.

"Cora Willowstaff. Age fifteen, height 5'5", weight: irrelevant. Top of her class (class 5-4) expertise in stealth and tracking. Possibly a psychopath. I found her lighting a dumpster behind her school on fire – the military seemed like a natural place for her. Not to mention that her foster father of the time was not able to provide an adequate standard of living. I also adopted that one…"

"They sound perfect for the job!" The Prime Magical-minister leaned forward, seeming moved, "emotional distress and trauma makes for better soldiers! Why, look at Harry Potter! That kid has a shit-hole of a life and he killed Voldemort."

"Yes…I think it speaks volumes that you feel we should abuse our children in order to better protect ourselves…" Trex cleared his throat and continued. "Reagan Starsinger. Age seventeen, height 6'1", weight 180 lbs. Top of his class (class 7-8) expertise in healing and medicinal plants. He is a gentle soul from a military family. Although capable, he is not usually the profile that we see around here, but his family was really keen for him to "build character".

"Samantha (Sammy) Hellstorm. Age seventeen, height 5'7", weight 142 lbs. Top of her class (class 7-2) expertise in leadership and tactics. I'm pretty sure she made up her own stupid last name, but I can't for the life of me find records to the contrary."

Trex was eager to leave, so he attempted to wrap things up. "So these are the students I have assembled. They are experienced in working as a team and have proven themselves to be responsible and capable individuals who I believe are probably up to the task."

"Okay that sounds good. Well if we're all done here I'm going to take a little nosh before driving dangerously off to the horse races." The Prime Magical-minister removed a large bottle from under the table that was labeled 'tonic water'.

However, as he opened the top, Trex began to feel that perhaps 'tonic water' should not make one's eyes burn this much. The Prime Magical-minister downed the whole bottle in four gulps. His complexion turned rosy.

"'Sgood for the heart, y'know." He slurred.

Trex shook his head and began to work out in his mind just exactly what it was he was going to tell the four selected students. Though he disagreed with the decision, patriotism demanded that he carry out his orders anyway.

He knew that Voldemort's agents were only underground and, although he typically did not feel that the ends justified the means, he knew that if Voldemort had returned it was only a matter of time before history started repeating itself; before people started getting killed again… like his Leanne.

Trex pounded his fist on the highly polished surface of the table and suddenly looked heavenward.

"Damn Yooooooooou!" His voice reverberated throughout the acoustically designed chamber.

The Prime Magical-minister jumped at the sound of Trex's emotional outburst, losing at level 22 on his original Gameboy's Tetris.

"Oh great, now I owe Russia 20 tonnes of softwood lumber." He slurred and then passed out. Trex blanched.

"God help our country." He grumbled.

Leaving the Prime Minister on the floor, Trex walked quickly from the room and off of Parliament Hill to a nearby bus stop. The bus stop was very raggedy-looking and only belonged to one bus route. This bus only ran every two hours on Tuesdays from 11 am until 2 pm. The driver's name was Murry and he was very unpleasant to look at.

Finding the bus stop pleasantly abandoned, Trex ducked into the bus shelter and, in the privacy of grime-covered windows, disapparated back to the Kananaskis area with a loud crack that someone assumed was gunfire.

* * *

"So the logging industries drove the Boo Cats from their natural habitats and so they're terrorizing people on their rampage!" The animated blond girl pointed enthusiastically to a picture that she had ripped out of a library encyclopedia.

The Boo Cat, named for its discoverer Laurence T. Booley, was a fuzzy cat-shaped beast that appeared to have four tentacles emerging from its back. Courtesy of her hatred and wild imagination, the beast had many arrows drawn sticking through its side in addition to a sizeable pool of blood and a large image of herself being worshipped by mole people who, due to the fact of their irrelevance, had no distinguishing features.

"Now it's up to our heroes, Cora Willowstaff *Dun da da dun* and her sidekicks," Cora loosely gestured to her three companions, "to stop them!"

Bridgit Firecatcher gave her friend an exasperated look and pushed her off the rock she'd been standing on.

"You're hurting the rock with your wild elephant stamping! Please be careful when disseminating your ignorance."

"Your face is ignorant! Of how to look good!" Cora grumped, feeling quite unappreciated.

"Your face is guilty of this as well." Bridgit muttered. "And it has murdered children."

"I'm here to save the children!" Cora objected. "The mole people children. I'm sure that they have feelings too!"

"Oh come on! There's no such things as mole people."

"But I saw one!"

"That was a ground squirrel!"

"MOLE PEOPLE ARE REAL! A cretin like you can't understand the pain of losing your child to a Boo Cat." Cora fumed. "The mole people have known about the Boo Cats' vendetta for years. It's been silent fear and agony waiting for the other shoe to fall!"

"Listening to you is sheer agony." Bridgit, uncharacteristically irritated, shot back.

"You're not supposed to answer that! The 'dead child' card trumps all!" Cora snapped, totally insensitive.

"Would you two be quiet?" Sammy barked in annoyance. "Reagan and I are tired of listening to you bicker. Right Reagan?"

Reagan was sitting under a tree knitting a sword cozy.

"I started tuning them out when they got offensive." He smiled with a glow similar to that of an expectant mother.

Reagan was truly a rose among thorns, since he was the only one who could actually be classified as a human being. The others were some kinds of wraiths or something, consumed with anger, stupidity, or both.

_**But then you would never hear anything they say**_. A snarky voice rang out in their heads.

"Oh, you guys are back already." Reagan noted, standing up and putting his work away.

"We went on a field trip!" A spritely voice called.

In the tree, on an overhead branch sat perched three magical creatures.

The Canadian methods of magic differed from the British magic system in one very important way: it was more stupid. This may not seem possible, but it totally is. It went a little something like this:

"_Are you sure you're qualified to be the Minister of Magical Education?" Media critic Billy Tungsten raised a dubious eyebrow._

_"Absolutely." Muggle-raised wizard, Minister Thomas Tingleberry, didn't even pause._

_"So…I hear that you have created a new magical amplification legislation…I've also heard that it's not very…good."_

_"What are you talking about? It's AWESOME! You get to have familiars! Like in D&D! How cool is that?" Minister Tingleberry grinned, bouncing up and down. "Instead of using wands, we'll use magical companions to amplify our magic!"_

_"What's wrong with wands?" Billy had paid a lot for his wand and wasn't keen to have it outlawed._

_"You can drop them! Or they can be broken." Minister Tingleberry continued. "What a pain! Magical companions can be your friends and fight alongside you in battle. It's fool-proof!"_

_"But if your wand breaks, you can still use it a little. If an animal companion dies, not only do you lose all amplification, but you also have a life on your hands. In fact, why even bother attacking a witch or wizard? Just assassinate their animal! This seems like a bad idea."_

_"Treason!" Minister Tingleberry cried, and so ended the life of Billy Tungsten._

One hundred years later, the results of this decision were very apparent. Sitting in the tree bobbing his head while whistling show tunes was Toucey, Reagan's enchanted toucan. Sitting on either side of him was Tigerscry, Bridgit' fairy dragon, and Moonmist, Cora's pseudo dragon. The dragonettes were each the size of chinchillas, but between the two, very different in appearance. Tigerscry was a yellow brown color and had bright monarch butterfly wings jutting out of her back. Moonmist, on the other hand, was more of a burnt- red color, had leathery bat wings and a scorpion tail.

Reagan turned from the three to locate Sammy's companion Drifter, who should have returned with them. Drifter, a large black cat about the size of an ocelot with spikes on its tail and large luminescent green eyes, had come to Sammy's side and rubbed his head against her leg.

Sammy, eager to avoid a stupid discussion between the two junior members, ran up to the tree that the creatures were sitting in with Drifter in tow.

"Where are they?" She called up to them.

_**One of the Boo Cats is down by Mt. Carthew, about 250 meters away from the big boulder we passed before. The other one is sleeping in a bush of raspberries not far north of here**_. Moonmist reported

"Dibs on tagging the one in the raspberry bush!" Sammy exclaimed immediately.

"Hey! No fair!" Cora yelled as she stomped on wild flowers.

"You just took the easy one." Bridgit muttered.

Reagan just grinned, secretly happy.

"Tough. You guys have to get the one that's more of a pain, and Reagan and I will take the one that's asleep." Sammy grinned.

"Tagging these rogue Boo Cats for pickup is kind of a weird extra-credit assignment, you know?" Cora made conversation. "Especially since we failed alchemy. You'd think it would have something to do with what we failed."

"_We_ didn't fail it." Sammy said hotly, gesturing to herself and Reagan.

"I kind of suspect this is a different kind of test." Reagan intoned darkly, but refused to offer any details.

"Okay everyone! Remember that they can alter your depth perception so that they can appear closer or further away than they really are. Also, watch out for their tentacles! A single touch could paralyze you long enough to give the Boo Cats time to sink their claws into you." Sammy was about to say more but Bridgit and Cora were already walking away.

"Okay, whatever." They offered their farewell.

Sammy deflated visibly, disappointed that no one would listen to her seeing as she was the assigned leader.

"There, there." Reagan teased her, patting her on the shoulder.

"Note to self: Increase the fear." Sammy muttered to herself.

* * *

Bridgit and Cora picked their way through the thorny path, wondering all the while if Moonmist hadn't told them to come this route just so he could watch them get gouged and scratched.

"So where is it?" Cora asked impatiently.

"Over there!" Tigerscry pointed to a clearing ten feet away.

"I'll go! I'll use my awesome ninja skills to sneak up on it. You can just watch my back." Cora waved dismissively at Bridgit.

"Tee hee! Ninjas are cool." Bridgit laughed in order to avoid being swept up in another one of Cora's ego trips.

Using her awesome ninja skills, Cora crept through the bushes without rustling even a single leaf. Moonmist sat perched on her shoulder, camouflaging himself perfectly with his surroundings. As she approached the clearing, the Boo Cat gradually came into view. It appeared to be an overly large panther at first glance… that is if you ignored the pupil-less, glowing white eyes and the half meter-long tentacles coming out of its back.

_Okay, all I have to do is sneak up on it and stun it and then I'll be done in time to watch the hockey game._ Cora thought patriotic thoughts to herself as she crouched in the bushes.

_**Cora… it's right there.**_ Moonmist's tense voice projected itself into her mind.

"Yeah, I see it." Cora whispered almost inaudibly, raising her arms to cast a stun spell.

_**Oh no you don't!**_ Moonmist was beginning to sound terrified. Cora suddenly had a nasty feeling.

"_Germanusaum videre_." Cora's eyes crossed as the spell she had cast cleared her senses from any outside interference. Then a black, furry face with pupil-less eyes suddenly came into view only a few inches from hers. Foul breath brushed across her face, causing her eyes to water. Only one thought crossed her mind as she met those glowing eyes.

"I am so screwed." She uttered.

Cora slowly started backing away as the Boo Cat watched her with a sort of half interest. Then, it drew back its lips in a snarl, baring its sharp pointy teeth, and gave a low growl. Without further warning, it leapt at her.

"BRIDGIT!" Cora yelled as she barely managed to throw herself out of the beast's way in time, rolling to avoid a tentacle.

There was no response. Cora could no longer divert any attention to calling for help as she did an odd sort of dance to avoid the intertwining tentacles. Moonmist stabbed one with his tail, digging his claws into Cora's shoulder in order to maintain his perch. He didn't dare take flight amidst the flailing tentacles.

_**You're not supposed to take me into battle! What would you do if I died?**_ Moonmist wailed.

"What would you do if I died?" Cora shot back, avoiding a swiping claw.

_**I don't know… be free?**_

"I've had it up to here with-" Cora suddenly tripped over a fallen tree branch. Her eyes widened with fear as the tentacles poised themselves. But then….

FWOOMP!

A dart suddenly lodged itself at the base of the Boo Cat's skull. It paused for a moment in confusion and then slumped to the ground unconscious. Cora stood up from the dirt and brushed herself off.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." She put her hands on her hips and grinned.

"Please. You'd be lost without me." Bridgit smiled coming out of the bushes, blowpipe in hand. Cora stuck her tongue out at her.

"Fine. Oh thank you great Bridgit for getting off your lazy butt to come help me!" Cora snapped.

"Hey! If I'd run in there all willy nilly like you did, we would have lost the element of surprise and god knows how long it would have taken us to get this done!"

"Oh blah blah blah! You just wanted to see me sweat!" Cora grumped, paraphrasing adequately.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Bridgit batted her eyelashes and looked skyward in innocence, the very picture of sarcasm.

"I'm hungry! Let's go back to camp and eat!" Tigerscry whined.

"Fine." Bridgit and Cora grumbled.

They tagged the Boo Cat for the pickup and relocation crews to find and left it sleeping peacefully as they trudged back to camp.

_**Look at me! I'm frazzled and I'm losing scales! This is all your fault, Cora! Look at my beautiful face!**_ Moonmist griped, digging his claws into her shoulder.

"Ow!" Cora exclaimed.

"Hey! I thought you were supposed to be our magical companions." Bridgit said in irritation. "Something about whining doesn't strike me as magical."

"Or companion-y!" Tigerscry, somewhat of a ditz, piped up.

_**None of us ever had a choice! Do you think Cora or I are happy about this?**_ Moonmist howled.

"I love you Bridgit!" Tigerscry chirped.

"I love you too!" Bridgit responded, hugging her dragonette with a smug look. Cora and Moonmist glared venomously at the pair.

They arrived at the camp shortly thereafter.

"Hi guys! How'd it go?" Reagan called out to them.

"Yeah guys. What took you so long?" Sammy demanded.

"Well we finished so quickly we decided to do a little bird watching before coming back." Cora responded with a strained smile. "You know, seeing as how _easy_ our target was."

"Yes, the wildlife here is so fascinating. I saw a blue-footed booby." Bridgit didn't even try to smile.

"Whatever. Anyway, look what was here when we got back." Sammy passed them a note which read:

_Meet me at the main house ASAP. – Trex_

"What do you think this is about?" Cora asked the group in general.

"Yeah, we haven't done anything wrong… recently." Bridgit thought aloud.

"I guess we'll just have to go and find out." Reagan suggested.

"Okay… We'd better get going then." Sammy sighed.

They all disapparated from the clearing with a loud crack. Instants later they were in front of a dinky little log cabin at the base of a mountain. It was mountain HQ, AKA the Main House. How sad.

They pushed open the door to the sight of Trex sitting on a couch, which bore an ugly yellow and brown floral pattern, drinking coffee from a stainless steel travel mug that said "Athabasca REPRESENT!"

"Oh, you made it! Have a seat on our low-budget, ugly furniture!" Trex greeted them.

Sammy and Reagan seated themselves on a faded, green loveseat while Cora leapt into a rocking chair, almost capsizing it in the process. Bridgit flopped on the last piece of available furniture, a racecar bed with no sheets and its mattress still in the packing plastic.

"I have called you here on a matter that is of grave importance. Our government has received a very urgent communication from Albus Dumbledore at-" Everyone snickered, and then Bridgit and Cora burst out laughing.

"Ha ha ha ha! Dumbledore!" Cora laughed.

"It's Dumble-icous!" Bridgit giggled

Trex, having half-expected this, but secretly hoping it wouldn't happen, looked annoyed.

"Wait a minute!" something dawned on Reagan. "Within the magical community Canada hasn't had contact with England in years after they two-timed us with France!"

"You two should show more respect! Dumbledore was the only person Voldemort was ever afraid of!" Sammy, sucking up to Trex, snapped at Bridgit and Cora even though she herself was having trouble saying the ridiculous name with a straight face.

"Who cares? Voldemort is dead." Bridgit said. " That Potter kid killed him."

"That's where the urgency of the communication comes in." Trex interrupted their laughter. Last year during Harry Potter's fourth year of school, Voldemort apparently completed a ritual that brought him back from his death-like state. So apparently he's not dead now... He's not very happy either."

"Go figure." Cora muttered, all laughter gone now.

"Umm…sir? What does this have to do with us?" Sammy asked the question that was weighing heavily on everyone's minds.

"I was just getting to that part. Because Fudge's government refuses to acknowledge the return of Voldemort, Dumbledore has no legitimate call for hiring any kind of extra protection for the school or Harry Potter, whom he is convinced Voldemort will make an attack on."

"Sounds like their ministry really _fudged_ up." Bridgit made a terrible pun. Trex made a face.

"Moving on! The solution Dumbledore has come up with is: if military students came from Canada posing as foreign exchange students, they would be able to watch over the school and Harry Potter under the guise of promoting unity and international friendship."

There was a lengthy pause while everyone stared at him. Wanting to break the silence, Bridgit decided to give her valuable input.

"I knew a guy named Harry Butt once."

"That's… great." Trex muttered.

He hated having group meetings with Bridgit.

"Uhh… sir?" Cora raised her hand. "You were talking about us, weren't you?"

"Brilliant deduction Sherlock." Trex congratulated his hapless student. "Your mysterious mission was a test, not for extra credit, but to see if you were smart enough to not die if we sent you to England.

"But the test had nothing to do with England." Bridgit protested.

"Well, it wasn't my idea." He muttered darkly. "Actually, I think having people disguised with polyjuice potions entering Hogwarts to protect the school is a much better idea, but for some reason Albus specifically requested children."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"So you're sending us on babysitting duty?" Sammy asked incredulously.

"In so many words… yes!" Trex admitted. They all stared at him darkly.

"I've already taken the liberty of having your belongings sent over." He continued brightly. "So all you have to do is take this portkey," He held up a stuffed beaver, "and go have your debriefing in England."

"Don't they hate us in England?" Cora asked.

"Yes, but building good international relations is now part of your jobs."

"Are we getting paid?" Bridgit whined.

"No dice." Trex said flatly.

"I suppose we don't have any choice." Sammy conceded darkly.

"Nope! Bridgit, Cora, since you're in his age group you will be in charge of guarding Harry Potter. Try your darndest to get into Gryffindor… it will make it a lot easier to do your job."

"As opposed to what?" Cora asked desperately, not alone in having no idea what Gryffindor was.

"Sammy and Reagan." Trex continued without missing a beat. " I expect you both to attend your classes, guard the school, and most importantly watch those two!" He pointed at Bridgit and Cora. "Well… I guess that's about it. You'll get more information upon your arrival in England. So, you'd best be off." He gestured to the beaver.

"Is that it?" Bridgit asked bleakly. " Is it really that easy for you to send us off like that?"

Trex paused, and the overly cheery mask dropped from his face.

"Don't think for one minute that this has been easy for me. I thought long and hard about it before I made the decision, and even then it was the hardest one I've ever made in my career as headmaster. Normally I wouldn't have agreed, but you must understand that since Voldemort is back, no one is safe. This is everyone's problem and if guarding Harry Potter is the thing we can do to help, then it must be done. We have to stop him at all costs. I've devoted my life to training students in case of an evil such as this and I truly think you guys can pull this off. Don't underestimate yourselves. I've seen what you can do when you work together," The four looked guiltily at one another, " so I know you can do this."

"That was a great unification speech." Sammy admitted

"I thought so." Trex shrugged. Cora leapt to her feet, standing on the rocking chair.

"We won't let you down sir!" She shouted and then fell over, taking the rocking chair with her.

"Motivational too." Reagan noted as he went to help Cora up.

"Hogwarts won't know what hit 'em!" Bridgit grinned, also swept up by the speech.

"That's what I'm afraid of! Try and be diplomatic… and remember: you're under cover."

"We're discretion itself." Reagan offered assurance.

"I'm a spy!" Bridgit and Cora cheered, causing everyone to blanch.

"Undercover! Undercover!" Toucy cawed.

"Uhhh… let's go now!" Sammy suggested. They all rushed to the portkey and vanished leaving a horrified-looking Trex behind.

"Good luck. Just come back alive." He said softly.

Trex then left the cabin to attend a staff meeting about their ever dwindling education budget.


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

**Chapter Two: Welcome To Hogwart's**

Sammy held a map up to the light, turning it in every direction and clearly not understanding what she was looking at.

Reagan gave her an incredulous look.

"I thought we agreed you would get rid of your map collection. It only takes up room and it doesn't do you any good because you don't know how to read maps!"

"Yes I do! See? We're here at….Stonehenge." Sammy pointed to a spot on the map they could have sworn was random. "Nothin' to it!" She quickly put it away in her pocket before anyone could see it. "Now all we have to do is wait for Dumbledore."

Everyone paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"What kind of name is Dumbledore, anyway?" Cora asked between chuckles.

"It's my name." A voice said from behind them.

Everyone turned around rather quickly and brushed the merry tears from their eyes. Before them stood Dumbledore, the only man Lord Voldemort had been afraid of.

Like all prototypical wizards, he was old with long, silver hair and a beard to match. He wore a pair of half-moon spectacles, behind which his eyes shone with impish youth, and he wore a long, flowing green robe.

Bridgit nudged Cora.

"Dude…check out his threads." She gave Dumbledore a sideways glance.

"Dude…Shut up!" Cora hissed.

Dumbledore ignored them.

"Erm…Hello, sir, we're the students from Canada." Sammy sheepishly introduced themselves. "I'm Sammy Hellstorm. This is Reagan Starsinger, Bridgit Firecatcher and Cora Willowstaff."

"Pleased to meet you." Reagan gave a little bow.

"Yo!" Cora grinned.

"Present!" Bridgit saluted.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Come, let us get to Hogwart's, where I'm sure you will meet others with colourful names."

Although they had been sure he was cross, he seemed quite merry…almost like Santa Clause. Everyone looked at each other and shrugged and Sammy hefted the heavy stuffed beaver under her other arm. Dumbledore picked up a stone from the Stonehenge.

"Hey! What are you doing? Isn't that stone part of one of your nation's national treasures!" Reagan looked in horror at the vandalism.

"It's quite all right." Dumbledore assured him. "The Stonehenge is a natural Portkey and the only reason it is vanishing is that some parts of it are still in use."

"We thought it was tourists."

"Oh, we blame everything on tourists." Dumbledore said reassuringly. "Okay, everyone, gather around and get ready."

They all put their hands on the portkey and felt themselves being pulled rapidly to somewhere else. Somewhere else was a large, stone room with scarlet and gold furnishings and banners all over the place. A large fireplace stood off to one side, crackling and casting light all over the room. This change in scenery also seemed to cause a change in mood.

"I must thank you all for agreeing to come and undertaking such a risk." Dumbledore began.

"Sure. No problem." Cora smiled.

"I have been told that Bridgit and Cora will be watching over Harry Potter and that Sammy and Reagan will maintain an increased watch over the school."

"Yes. That's what Trex told us…five minutes before we left." Sammy verified this.

"I expect that you shall need to be informed of our school system, so I will leave you to Professor Minnerva McGonagall, as I have to make preparations for the start of the year feast." He inclined his head in farewell and then left.

"Hello, children."

Everyone jumped at the voice, except for Bridgit who screamed and leapt into Cora's arms. Cora made a face and dropped her on the ground. A tall, mysterious old woman walked from the shadows, seemingly unfazed by their antics.

"This is spooky." Reagan whispered.

"I trust you are the students from Canada…otherwise YOU ARE BREAKING THE RULES! Ten points from Gryffindor! Twenty points from…Oh…I'm sorry. I got a little carried away."

The friends were beginning to doubt the woman's sanity.

"Ummm…yes, we are the students from Canada." Sammy said tensely.

"What's with the points thing?" Bridgit asked.

"And what's a Gryffindor?" Cora tilted her head to one side inquisitively.

"Why, you're standing in it!" The woman smiled in the way of most prim educators.

"Eeeeeeeeew!" Everyone screamed and simultaneously cast a levitating spell and hovered above the ground.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me." The woman was beginning to doubt their sanity. "The school is divided into four houses that the students are sorted into at the start of their first year. This is the Gryffindor common room. The other houses are Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Your house is awarded points if you do something good, but points get subtracted if you do something bad. At the end of the year the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. Basically, it's an 'I'm better than you are' thing."

"Oh." Sammy said as they all floated down to the ground.

"I'm Professer McGonagall, head of the Gryffindor house. At the feast today, you will be sorted into houses as well. Bridgit and Cora, the sorting has been rigged so that you will be in Gryffindor, as that is the house that Harry is in and your job will undoubtedly be easier if you are in the same house." She explained. "While you're here, you will have to attend classes like everyone else so that you can maintain your cover. Bridgit and Cora, your schedules will be identical to Harry's so that you can keep watch over him."

"Joy." Bridgit and Cora muttered.

"Sammy and Reagan, we have given you the lightest credible course load possible so that you may perform your undercover duties. While you are all here at Hogwart's, you will be expected to attend classes regularly and be subject to the same rules and responsibilities, which will be explained at the feast. The teachers have been alerted to your arrival and have been informed of your different instructional methods. They shouldn't give you too much trouble…except for Professor Snape. I'm afraid he probably won't like you very much, but that's okay. He doesn't really like anyone very much." She warned.

"Hey, Sammy, sounds like your new best friend!" Cora teased her.

"Yeah? Well I don't have any classes with him." Sammy grinned.

"What?" Bridgit and Cora looked at their schedules. "It says we have him for double potions!" Cora groaned.

"I don't know what double means, but it sounds bad!" Bridgit whimpered, more than highlighting her poor education.

The magical creatures, feeling ignored, started sharpening their claws on the furniture except for Toucey, who started flying into a nearby mirror.

"Who's a pretty boy?" Toucey asked his reflection.

"Juust great." Reagan muttered. "I have a narcissistic toucan."

"STOP THAT AT ONCE!" Professer McGonagall's impressive and authoritative voice boomed throughout the common room.

The animals froze in terror and removed themselves from the plush chair they had been destroying.

"Do not think for one second that, just because you are not human, the rules do not apply to you as well. Having near-human intelligence, you will be expected to follow the human rules! And what in the world is that?" She pointed to the beaver tucked under Sammy's arm.

"Ummmm…it's a stuffed beaver, a symbol of Canada, which we have brought as a token of our goodwill….here you go!" She handed it to the professor.

"Oh! How nice. A dead animal. I will treasure it always." She held it up by its tail. "Anyway, I have to leave to attend the great hall pre-first year feast meeting. Blindie the house elf will show you to the Great Hall." She turned to leave, then paused and waited in the doorway.

A small elf with large tennis ball eyeglasses appeared from nowhere in a poof of smoke.

"Oh dear! Is something wrong with your eyes?" Reagan cried, upon noticing this.

"Blindie lost his sight in a horrible cooking accident…but Blindie doesn't like to talk about it. Luckily Dumbledore was kind enough to take him in after his master abandoned him duct taped to a box in the gutter during heavy rainfall to die." He squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

"That's awful!" Reagan cried.

"Well, not really. Blindie doesn't like to complain. Now I will show you to the Great Hall!" Blindie's voice suddenly raised a further octave. "Please excuse Blindie's voice! He did not know you were coming and got high on helium."

Professor McGonagall tsked the elf.

"Blindie is with a self-help elf group and he is a much better elf for it."

Blindie led them towards the door, but walked into the gray, stone wall.

"I was afraid of this. Perhaps Persnickety will lead you to the Great Hall." Professor McGonagall muttered. "Anyway, I really must be off to meet the first years."

A female elf appeared just as McGonangall left the room.

"Right this way sir and ma'ams." She said.

Bridgit could have sworn she heard the elf say "loser" as she passed Blindie, who was still trying to walk through the wall.

Persnickety lead them down winding stone passageways and down stairs that were continually moving and changing places.

"Uhhh…how are we going to find our way back?" Bridgit wondered aloud, gazing at a flight stairs moving with a screaming individual hanging off the end.

"You'll just know." Persnickety winked all-knowingly.

"Do you think we should help him?" Reagan asked, pointing at the person dangling from a large, large drop.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!" The person screamed as he fell.

"Too late." Cora mutterd.

"No wonder Trex told us to be careful! This place is a death trap." Sammy gave a low whistle as she surveyed the length of the drop.

"We should do something!" Reagan reprimanded them all.

"Right!" Sammy snapped into action. "Hey, you guys!" She turned back to the creatures, who had been uncharacteristically quiet after being told off by McGonagall and were sulking along behind, "Drifter, you go get help where you can find it. The rest of you, fly down to him and use your limited magical abilities to keep him from dying...if possible." She ordered them.

They all grumbled, but did as they were told.

"If you're quite finished, we need to be moving on, lest we be late." Persnickety snapped.

"Fine!" Cora glared at the pint-sized elf, raising her foot above its head.

"NO! Remember? Diplomacy." Sammy hissed while restraining her.

"No smash?" Cora whimpered.

"No." Sammy shook her head.

"Poo."

Persnickety, oblivious to this, continued on, ushering them down the hallway until they reached a room full of people sitting at tables. At the front of the room sat the head table, consisting of a motley crew of odd-looking witches and wizards. A few of the seats, however, were vacant.

"There you are!" A random professor exclaimed. "We've been looking for you for _minutes_! Go stand over there with the cluster of scared-looking people. You will be sorted last!" He then ran off to sit at the table.

The four shrugged and did as they were told.

"Wow! You're really tall for a first year!" A child, who despite the culture gap was unmistakably a geek, exclaimed.

"Uhhh…eat your spinach and you can grow as tall as me!" Sammy grinned in a very strained way and gave him the thumbs up.

"Wow!" A chorus of first years who had been listening cried.

"Yes… Let's get out of here!" She hissed to Bridgit, Cora and Reagan.

"Smooth move, Popeye." Reagan chided her as they slunk to the back of the crowd.

However, being taller than ninety percent of the students and dressed in street clothes made them stand out despite their endeavors to appear unassuming. In fact, many of the students at the tables were pointing at the four and whispering amongst themselves.

"They're whispering about us! Let's do something funny." Bridgit grinned wickedly.

"Ummm…how about no?" Sammy sighed, but was promptly ignored.

Bridgit reached into her back pocket and pulled out three balls, which were bewitched to change shape as they were tossed. She then proceeded to juggle. While she received some stern glances from the faculty, the other students watched her, enraptured, as she juggled the shape-changing balls. They changed from balls to mice, parakeets, oranges, sponges, meat and potato pies, torches and the grand finale…chainsaws! Bridgit suddenly seemed to fumble with one of the chainsaws and it crashed to the ground and turned back into a ball.

"Ahhhh! My arm!" She screamed, only an empty sleeve remaining.

Many of the watching students also screamed and several fainted.

"Just kidding!" She popped her arm back out of her sleeve.

This was met with scattered applause, except for the rapid applause of two red heads who appeared to look exactly the same.

Sammy smacked her upside the head.

"You idiot! You just ruined your reputation."

"I know…I just got caught up in the moment." Bridgit laughed sheepishly.

There was an increase of whispers and rustling as some new, not related to them event began to transpire. Professor McGonagall carried out a ratty looking hat that sat perched on a stool.

"I am the magic hat! Da da da da da! I am the magic hat! Tra la la la la! I was puked on by a cat. La la la la la la la! I hate you all." The hat sang. Hundreds of years of storage with only scant days of freedom from the mothball-filled hatbox had finally made it bitter.

"The sorting will now commence. Anderson, Aaron A." She read out the first name.

A wormy looking kid nervously walked up to the stool and sat down.

"Psst! You're supposed to put the hat on your head, dummy!" A ghost laughed loudly from the ceiling.

"PEEVES!" McGonagall yelled.

Filch pulled out a magic rifle and cocked it.

"Do you feel lucky? Do you? Peeves?" He snarled, baring ugly yellow teeth.

Peeves gulped and then vanished through the ceiling. Aaron A. Anderson then placed the hat on his head.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat cried after 0.2 milliseconds.

Aaron smiled weakly and then walked over dejectedly to the Hufflepuff table, which was cheering wildly just for the sake of appearances.

This continued on down the list until at last Zzargle Z. Zorenson had been sorted into Slytherin. As he was dragged kicking and screaming over to the exuberant table, Dumbledore stood up and a hush fell over the crowd.

"As you may have noticed, there are four remaining students. They are visiting for this school year from Canada to learn more about English culture. I expect you all to do your utmost to make them feel welcome and help them around the school if they are having difficulties."

They all smiled in embarrassment at being singled out. The Slytherins cracked their knuckles and grinned menacingly.

"Firecatcher, Bridgit C."

Bridgit walked up to the hat stool in an improvised wedding march. With a final step together, she reached the stool and sat down, placing the hat on her head.

"You know, this isn't the way we normally do things and I most certainly do not approve." The hat whispered into her ear. "This violates a tradition that has been ongoing for hundreds and hundreds of years. Long before you were ever born. If all the students could just pick whatever houses they wanted, I would lose my job and Hufflepuff would cease to exist. Don't you see? I help maintain the balance!"

"Boo hoo, Ragamuffin." Bridgit said darkly. "The situation is out of your hands…I mean…well…it's out of your control at any rate! So just say Gryffindor."

"No! I protest!" The hat declared. "Sly-"

Bridgit leapt from her seat and yanked the hat off her head, scrunching it into a ball so that it could no longer speak. The eyes of the entire room were on her.

"Heh heh…he said Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table burst into hesitant applause while the rest of tables looked relieved.

"Hellstorm, Samantha G."

Sammy stalked up to the hat, now lying crumpled on the floor, in a much more serious dignified manner. She picked up the hat and straightened it out.

"No! I wanted to say Sly-"

Sammy crammed the hat onto her head and calmly sat on the stool.

"What are you doing boy? I was about to proclaim-"

"I'm here now. Sort me honestly…and I'm a girl." Sammy folded her arms.

"Oh right. I knew that…because I am the sorting hat! Ooooooo! Let's see…you have courage, but you're bossy, a tad grumpy and you try way too hard to be mature."

"Hey! Don't you have anything nice to say?" Sammy muttered.

"You don't have any lice!" The hat said happily.

"Thank you Dr. Hat."

"Gryffindor!" The hat yelled.

"WAHOOOOO! Go Sammy!" Bridgit screamed from the very end of the Gryffindor table, joined by several smitten girls who screamed wildly. Apparently the hat wasn't the only one who had mistaken Sammy for a boy.

The rest of the tables just cheered.

"Starsinger, Reagan J."

Reagan glided up to the stool and sat down gracefully. He placed the hat over his soft, shiny black hair and sat serenely as he listened to its counsel. As this occurred, many of the girls in the room watched him intently. Several more immature ones whistled, only to be smacked by their neighbours.

"Yesss…I see that you are kind and intelligent, also endowed with the common sense your companions lack. You would do especially well in Ravenclaw." The hat said.

Reagan looked at the table, where Bridgit and Sammy were arm wrestling. "I don't think I should leave them alone. There's no telling what they'd do."

"I see. Point taken." The hat conceded. "Gryffindor!"

He walked over to the table, amidst many cheers, and sat beside Sammy.

"Now whose image are you ruining?" He mocked her.

Sammy turned red in embarrassment and lost the match to Bridgit.

"Yay! I won!" She grinned.

"Willowstaff, Cora T."

Cora stomped up to the hat, frightening it in the process. She then gently lifted it and placed it gingerly upon her head.

"Uhh..you'd do very well in Slytherin." The hat offered.

"You're supposed to put me in Gyffindor! Remember what happened with Bridgit? I have a little secret for you…I'm even more violent than she is." Cora smiled unnervingly.

"G-GRYFFINDOR!" The terrified hat screamed.

The table cheered as she skipped over to sit by her friends.

"Ha ha! You got all of the barbarians!" A blond kid from Slytherin laughed.

"Hey! That's not nice!" Bridgit yelled, being more diplomatic than kicking that guy in the shins.

More jeering was interrupted by the doors slamming open as a boy rushed in to breathlessly sit beside Cora (because no one had saved him a seat). After him, an exhasperated-looking witch went to sit at the head table.

"Now, I must warn all first years that the Forbidden Forest is…forbidden. Please do not enter it, as it contains dangerous creatures. That said, let's eat!" Dumbledore concluded.

Upon this, food magically appeared on the tables.

"Whoa!" Bridgit marveled. "These people must want me to get fat."

Cora went straight for the deserts. "This makes it all worth it!"

Reagan poked a pie on a platter.

"Liver and treacle?" He asked, turning green.

"I'll eat that if you don't want it!" The boy offered as Reagan pushed the plate towards him without hesitating.

"Well, this one looks like blood pudding." Sammy looked at a strange pudding.

"It is!" The boy smiled.

"Oh."

"Where did this cuisine come from, Klingon?" Bridgit whined.

"I don't get it." The boy smiled.

"Mmmm…desert!" Cora cheered.

"So, uhh…my name's Reagan. What's yours?"

"My name's Neville. Neville Longbottom." The boy grinned and extended his hand, which Reagan shook.

"Oh! That's nice!" Reagan said, pretending to cough.

"Hahahahahahaaa! Oh! My pudding…uhh…has stuff in it! How cool!" Cora smiled, covering for her outburst.

Neville remained unaware that they were laughing at his name.

"Hey, Neville, why were you so late?" Bridgit asked, chugging some pumpkin juice she had found in order to wash down her case of the giggles.

"Oh! Well, I got lost on the way in and ended up dangling precariously from one of the staircases. Then I fell."

The four goggled at him.

"You're the guy we saw from before?" Sammy asked.

"Are you all right?" Reagan asked in concern.

"Yes! I'm fine. So then you must be the ones who sent those creatures to help me. Thanks! I owe you my life." Neville thanked them graciously.

They all looked at their plates in embarrassment since they hadn't really been overly concerned.

"Oh…it was nothing." Sammy muttered.

"Anyway, if you guys ever need anything from me, like help or something, just ask." He offered.

"Hey…thanks!" Bridgit smiled warmly.

"Just not with your homework." A student sitting across from them muttered.

"Oh, and as a word of warning, I'd look out for Professor Snape if I were you. He scares me." Neville cautioned them.

"Which one is he?" Cora asked, beginning to worry about her double potions block.

"Erm…he's…" Neville looked at the head table. "Actually, he isn't here. Hey! Maybe he isn't coming back this year! Oh happy day!" Neville cheered.

"Actually…I think he is." Bridgit said slowly, pointing at her crumpled timetable.

"Oh." His face fell.

Suddenly, a group of people sat down next to them.

"Go on, Rita, see what happens." A girl whispered hurriedly to her friend.

The other girl steeled herself and then pulled on Cora's hair.

"Ow! What the hell?" Cora demanded, getting her into an arm lock.

"Ah! I'm sorry, please let me go!" The girl pleaded.

"Not until you tell me why you did that." Cora was adamant.

"Well, I heard from one of my girlfriends that Canadians are all bald because it's so cold in Canada that your hair can't grow and so you all wear wigs." She sobbed.

"What?" Cora asked in puzzlement.

"Unhand her, savage wench!" The girl's scrawny boyfriend beat on Cora with his twig-like fists.

"Here, you can have her." Cora pushed her towards him, causing them both to fall over in a heap.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, you saved me!" She swooned.

Cora ceased to pay attention to them.

"Where is she from that she thinks she can just go up and pull on someone's hair like that?" She seethed.

"Hufflepuff." Neville offered an explanation.

"How is that an explanation?" Sammy asked slowly.

"Well…um…"

"Hundreds of years ago," began a bushy-haired girl who appeared out of nowhere and pushed herself into the middle of the conversation, "the school of Hogwarts was formed by four great witches and wizards."

"I'm confused. Is that four witches and four wizards, bringing it to a total of eight, or four total?" Bridgit interrupted.

"Four." She pouted. "Anyway, they decided to form a great school where the witches and wizards of Britain could come to study magic. The four houses, which bear their surnames, take in students sorted by the sorting hat who have the same overall personality traits of the person who started the house. Helga Hufflepuff was extremely loyal, but not particularily bright or outstanding in any other regards. Roweena Ravenclaw was really smart, but incredibly vain and scrawny. Salazar Slytherin was slimy, creepy and he smelled bad. Also, he was incredibly cunning, racist and ambitious. Godric Gryffindor was brave and handsome and really, really buff. Thus, Gryffindor is, without a doubt, the best house to be in." She finished with a flourish.

"Takes one to know one!" Bridgit retorted. "Oh wait. I'm a Gryffindor too."

"Thanks…but I don't think we really asked you." Cora tried to politely point out the obvious.

"Oh, it's quite all right. Anything I can do to help. My name's Hermione Granger." She smiled brightly.

"Again, did we ask- ack!" Sammy fell silent as Reagan kicked her under the table…very, very hard.

"It's great to meet you." Reagan returned the smile. "My name's-"

"Reagan Jacinda Starsinger, Cora Tamarice Willowstaff, Bridgit Caden Firecatcher, and Samantha Ge-"

"DON'T SAY IT!" Sammy interrupted Hermione.

"How did you know our full names?" Bridgit asked. "It wasn't like they were announced or anything."

"Oh, I'm such a know-it-all that I had to know more about you before you got here. So, I went to visit Ron's dad, who works at the ministry of magic. All it took was some truth and anti-self will potion to get your personal records." She smiled brightly.

Cora leaned over to Bridgit.

"She's scaring me. Is she psychotic, or what?" She hissed.

Suddenly, an apple core hit Hermione in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Hermione looked affronted.

"Sorry!" Someone called from the Slytherin table. "We weren't aiming for you…this time!"

A half-eaten liver and kidney pie flew at Reagan's head. Sammy caught it in mid-air and rose to her full, very close to impressive height. She glared coldly at them and a hush fell over the room.

"I believe you may have lost this. Let me return it." She whipped it at the offending Slytherin and it exploded on contact.

"FOOD FIGHT!" Someone at the Hufflepuff table screamed.

The four of them ducked under the table for cover and snuck away as everyone began throwing food at each other, much to the annoyance of the staff. Especially Filch, who would have to clean it all up later.

"Okay, I'm thinking we should get out of here now before this is pinned on us." Sammy muttered.

"No problem-o!" Bridgit grinned.

"Here's the plan: we leave." Cora put her idea forth.

"With such great plans, why aren't you the study group leader?" Sammy asked sarcastically, tilting her head to the side.

"I've been asking Trex the same thing for the past eight years!"

"I know. I remember." Sammy sighed, remembering one birthday card message.

'Happy Birthday, Trex! On your special day, when we shout and yell hey, I would just like to say, WHY THE HELL AREN'T I THE LEADER? Love Cora.'

"Charge!" Bridgit yelled as they all snuck out of the room.

With Cora's acute memory, they were able to track their way back to the Gryffindor common room, or at least where it should have been.

"Where's the door?" Cora asked, looking around the edges of a portrait of a rather obese woman.

"Hee hee hee!" Came a spritely chuckle.

"Who's there?" Bridgit asked.

Their creatures had snuck up behind them and were giggling all-knowingly.

"Oh, hey…have you guys been waiting here all this time?" Reagan asked in surprise.

"Yes." Toucey sighed.

"Well, do you know what happened to the Gryffindor place? Does it move like the stairs?" Reagan tried to gently coax the information out of them.

"Nope! We saw someone go in behind the picture by saying 'I'm a monkey'!" Tigerscry chirped.

"That's stu-"

The portrait swung open and nailed Cora in the head before she could finish her snide remark. Behind the picture lurked…the Gryffindor common room!

"Awesome! So we don't have to worry about our rooms disappearing!" Bridgit sighed in relief.

She sat in a chair, which was rather bouncy and squishy. Excited by this, she started jumping on the furniture.

"Hey! Don't do that….without me!" Cora yelled and joined Bridgit jumping on the furniture.

"Uhh…guys? I don't think that's very sa-" Reagan began, but was interrupted by the two colliding in mid-air with a resounding 'smack'. "Oh…never mind."

"Hey! I think these are our rooms!" Sammy exclaimed as she charged a staircase.

Suddenly, a siren went off and flashing lights turned on.

"WARNING!" A mechanical voice boomed. "YOU ARE NOT MALE."

"Huh?" Sammy looked around in confusion.

"PREPARE TO BE EJECTED."

Sammy was suddenly sucked into a cannon and expelled with such force, that she flew across the common room and smacked into the wall.

"What kind of place is this?" Sammy whimpered.

"Obviously one without co-ed dorms." Reagan muttered.

"Oh."

"Well. I see they've upped the pervert detector." Hermione noted. "You'd be surprised how far the pregnancy rate fell after they finally put one at the boy's dormitory entrance, too."

"Hey!" Sammy growled.

"Where did you come from?" Cora asked in confusion.

"Well, if you must know, it was beginning to get a little too rowdy out there, so I came back here to study."

"Study! It's the first day of school!" Bridgit looked around frantically, concerned that she was somehow behind everyone else. She then picked up a dictionary and started reading it.

_**Welcome to Geekville. Population: that chick over there.**_ Moonmist piped up from where he was preening himself upon the mantle.

"Ha ha…uhhh. Moonmist!" Cora snapped at her dragonette while stifling her own laughter.

Hey, you thought it was funny too.

"What part of 'make friends' do you not understand?" Cora muttered darkly.

_**All of it.**_

Before they could continue their bickering, Hermione figured out where the voice was coming from.

"Oh…a dragon." Her face was white and her voice somewhat strained.

"Look! I have one too!" Bridgit shoved Tigerscry into Hermione's face.

"I….have to go to the feast now!" Hermione shrieked, running from the room.

"Nice to know you guys are good for something!" Cora smiled.

"Why was she scared of Tigerscry? She's not that ugly!" Bridgit laughed.

"It could possibly be that there are only dragons here, which grow to be larger than a bus." Reagan offered.

"And because they're illegal as pets…seeing as how they destroy people and things…" Sammy's voice trailed off.

"I guess that makes sense." Bridgit looked ponderous… in her mind!

"Hey, as long as it gets rid of Hermione, it's all good to me." Cora grinned.

"Well, troops, off to the barracks." Reagan gave an awful salute as he headed up to his dorm.

"Well, girls, hopefully this staircase is ours." A frazzled Sammy cautiously led the way up the ominous stone staircase.

"Oh, man. I'm so worried about that security I feel like I should make sure I'm a female." Bridgit whined.

"You would." Cora muttered.

"Stop being mean!"

They walked up the stairs with little incident and made it to the room unharmed.

There, they paused to gaze in horror and delight respectively upon the sea of frilly bedding.

"My god! What the devil happened here?" Sammy exclaimed. "Did the ruffle patrol come through here with a white paint brush?"

"Yeah! They must be real wusses!" Cora exclaimed, secretly loving the room.

"But…but it's pretty and floofy!" Bridgit gazed longingly at the poofy comforts before her.

The girls looked at the three beds with reserved signs on them.

"I call closest to the window!" Sammy yelled.

"Dibs on second!" Cora waved her hand in the air.

"Oh. I never get the good spots." Bridgit muttered.

Drifter prowled impatiently, nails clicking on the stone floor.

"This place sucks." He hissed.

He began to say some other things, but Sammy had to use a spell to close his muzzle. The girls unpacked their things. Cora put a satin cushion on her nightstand and Moonmist curled up happily and began dozing on it. Tigerscry snorted at Moonmist.

"He calls me a sorry excuse for a dragon! He can't even go five days without his satin pillow!"

Moonimist threw Cora's pillow at Tigerscry, who nimbly flew out of the way.

"If you're going to throw things at Tigerscry, use your own stuff!" Cora muttered.

Moonmist fell asleep and ignored her. Tigerscry flew happily around the room.

"I'm an astronaut!" She cried.

Sammy listened to thundering footsteps, which sounded like they were charging up numerous staircases.

"It sounds like the other students will be here soon." She said.

All of a sudden, large chests appeared at the foot of the beds in the rooms.

"These people have it easy." Cora muttered. "We have to do things the normal way as much as possible. Trex said it was because it builds character."

"How lazy." Sammy snorted, secretly jealous because she always had to do the heavy lifting.

"I dunno…it seems kind of convenient…" Bridgit' voice trailed off.

"Well, why don't you just move to England and become a teabag?" Cora snapped.

"But I like tea!" Bridgit stamped her foot. "Just because it's different doesn't mean it's stupid."

"No. You're stupid." Cora muttered. "Interloper." She added.

At that moment, they heard voices coming from the common area and footsteps coming up the stairs. Moonmist rolled over in his sleep and camouflaged perfectly with his satin pillow. Tigerscry moaned in fear and turned herself invisible. Drifter ducked under Sammy's bed, not wanting to deal with an army of new people. A parade of girls came into the room. They were instantly curious about the three foreign exchange students.

"Who are you?" One girl asked. "I didn't see you at the sorting."

Bridgit, Sammy, and Cora looked at each other in confusion.

"Err, we were there...weren't we?" Cora said.

"I juggled!" Bridgit beamed.

"Those are the new girls! Weren't you listening to Dumbledore?" Hermione snapped.

"Listening is for losers." The other girl retorted and left to go do her nails.

Sammy, Bridgit, and Cora snickered quietly.

"My name is Hermione Granger." Hermione extended her hand.

"You all ready told us! And no one asked you!" Bridgit yelled in frustration.

"Yes, but last time we didn't do it properly." Hermione insisted, pulling out an etiquette book and pointing to a page.

"Well, we did it right this time!" Cora grumbled.

"No! You have to introduce yourselves back!" Hermione pressed them.

"Haven't you got an animal?" Interrupted a girl named Violet, steering the conversation to more interesting and relevant waters. "Most students here are allowed to keep pets."

"Yes, I do, but she's very shy." Bridgit said.

"Mine's sleeping and doesn't want to be bothered." Cora sighed.

Sammy smiled, "Mine's full of hate."

"Try antisocial." A muffled voice called from under Sammy's bed.

All the girls screamed, "EEK!"

"What do you have under there?" Hermione asked nervously, remembering her previous encounter with the dragonettes.

"Why don't you go look?" Sammy suggested.

Drifter sighed as Hermione stepped uncertainly forward. She lifted the bed skirt and Drifter streaked into the room in an ebony blur.

"Oooh! He's so cute!" Scarlet cooed.

"Ummm, right." Sammy muttered.

She had chosen Drifter because he was a vicious fighter.

Tigerscry was not about to risk being called a coward by Moonmist, so she appeared on Bridgit' shoulder."

"Ahhhhhhh! It's a dragon!" Someone screamed.

Everyone ran out of the dorm except for Hermione.

"You know, dragons are illegal." She said.

"These are dragonettes. They're native to Canada and aren't illegal because we have permits. They're not dangerous, either. They amplify our magic and other than that they're only good at hiding." Bridgit explained, using small words.

"Where's the other one?" Hermione wondered aloud.

_**Would you shut up?**_ Moonmist grumbled.

"Moonmist! Be polite!" Cora snapped.

Moonmist appeared and bowed. Then he camouflaged again and went back to sleep.

"Smart-alec." Cora muttered.

"So, why exactly are you here?" Asked Hermione.

They looked at each other.

"Ummmm, the exchange program." Bridgit said.

"I feel culturally enlightened already." Hermione said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "But seriously, it makes no sense for an exchange. Canada's wizard population hasn't been on good terms with England's since the War of the Monster's Fall in 1878. Not that I don't want to see our peoples grow to become friends again and I certainly-"

"It's lights out." The girl, who was doing her nails, said.

She had remained, having believed that listening was for losers and had ignored everything that had gone on.

Everyone came reluctantly back into the room, after having Professor McGonagall explain everything, and climbed into bed. Several hours passed and everyone was asleep except for Sammy and Cora.

"I can't sleep on this bed. It's too comfortable and soft." Cora whined.

"Let's go outside." Sammy said. "I'll take first watch.

"Hey stupid!" Cora punched Bridgit awake, "We're going to sleep outside. C'mon."

"But I like it here." Bridgit whined, still half asleep.

"Get moving." Sammy shoved her out of bed.

Everyone grabbed their pillows and blankets and crept through the corridor to the portrait. They slid it aside and left the room. Cora cast an invisibility spell on all of them so they wouldn't be detected. Walking through the hallway, they encountered no one. Once outside, the spell was removed. Both of the dragonettes flew high to find a suitable place to sleep. Moonmist came back with Tigerscry in tow.

_**We found a very polite whomping willow. It's name is Wally and it offered to guard us until we left.**_

"How nice. It almost reminds me of Paul the Punching Pine." Cora sighed.

"Yeah, he was nice. I miss him." Bridgit agreed.

They took off at a light jog and reached the tree in only minutes. They set up under the tree and fell asleep almost instantly on the cold, uneven ground.


	3. The Whomping Willow

**Chapter Three: The Whomping Willow**

Reagan woke up amidst the snoring room full of smelly boys. He had not slept well, being used to sleeping outdoors. With a heavy sigh, he slipped out of bed, still fully dressed, and crept down to the common area. There, he took note of two boys playing an odd sort of game. They appeared to be tossing what looked like a potato back and forth between the two of them while singing,

"Hot potato! Hot potato!"

At some point the potato began to flash fluorescent yellow. Upon this, the two began passing it even faster than before.

"I'll beat you this time, Harry!" The redhead grinned.

"Name one time you've ever beaten me at anything, Ron." Harry replied.

"Oh…" While Ron paused to think, the potato ran out of time.

It exploded in Ron's hands, propelling him several feet in the air and dying his hair green.

"Oh man, Fred and George said that it would spurt water! I'm going to get them!" Ron yelled, running up the stairs to the boy's dorm.

"Hey! You're that foreign exchange student!" Harry noticed Reagan and blushed. "I saw you at the sorting with those crazy girls. My name is Harry." He paused, a dreamy look on his face.

"How nice. I'm Reagan." Reagan sighed inwardly.

"Did you sleep well? I hear that it's difficult to sleep in the girls' dorms, what with all the pillow fights and…" He trailed off, eyes rolling back into his head.

Reagan missed that Harry seemed to believe he was a girl.

~Good lord. So this bag of hormones is Harry Potter, eh?~

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I have to go find my friends. You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?"

"Uhh…no I-"

"They left in the middle of the night to go sleep outside and haven't returned since." Hermione popped out of nowhere.

"Whoa! Uh, thank you." Reagan started with a yell, more afraid than annoyed.

"Well," Hermione said huffily, "I'd find them if I were you. Breakfast starts soon and if they're late for that, they might miss classes!" She looked horrified, as if it was the most terrible thing she could imagine.

"Yes. Horrors." Harry tried to show off.

"Laugh now, but if they're late, they'll have detention." Hermione stomped off.

"Well, I guess I'll go find them." Reagan sighed, once again delegated to being the mother hen.

* * *

Cora felt herself being shaken. She groaned and rolled over in her sleep. The shaking continued and she blearily opened one eye.

"What?"

"Rise and shine!" Sammy said brightly.

"Cut that out, you moron! I wanted to sleep in."

"You're not allowed to sleep in. You have to look after the Potter kid." Sammy said.

"And be nice to him." Reagan, who was now there, added. "He's a very confused young man going through some difficult changes."

"Whatever." Cora shrugged.

"What do you mean 'confused'?" Bridgit asked.

"It's not my place to say." Reagan decided to keep his belief that Harry was struggling with homosexual urges to himself.

"Anyway, we've got to go for breakfast." Sammy muttered. "You can meet him then."

"I guess so." Bridgit looked supremely uninterested.

"Better hurry," Sammy made a face, "we have classes to go to."

Everyone groaned, but hurried off to the great hall. Once there, they looked around in astonishment at the huge room with huge tables with huge amounts of food.

"I've never seen this much food in my life." Reagan breathed. "Well…except for that feast we had yesterday. Is this what it's going to be like all the time?"

"Mmmmmm...yummy." Cora said.

"This might be worth guard duty." Bridgit was warming up to the idea.

They followed Sammy to the Gryffindor table and began gorging themselves on the food that appeared on the plates before them.

"You realize we're going to be so fat when we get back home." Reagan sighed.

"Whatever." Cora snorted between mouthfuls.

Hermione flounced up to them, Harry and Ron in tow.

"And a balanced breakfast is healthy and integral to learning!" She finished whatever horrid lecture it was she was giving.

Slightly nauseated at noting the piles of greasy bacon and sausages being consumed by them all, she started to introduce them to each other.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Reagan waved.

Harry waved hurriedly back and the three friends moved closer.

"Harry, this is Bridgit Firecatcher, Cora Willowstaff, and Sammy Hellstorm." Reagan said.

Harry blushed a bit and Bridgit could tell he liked Reagan, which explained his earlier comment. This gave her the sneaking suspicion that the sorting hat wasn't the only one who was bad for mistaking genders. Sammy noticed him blushing too and stiffened a bit. No one noticed.

"These are my friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"We already know Hermione. Hi Ron." Cora extended her hand.

Ron sniffed indignantly.

"What sort of barbaric greeting is that?" He growled.

"It's called a handshake. You speak English?" Bridgit asked.

Ron stormed off to get ready for class.

"I'm glad we don't have to guard him." Cora muttered to Bridgit.

"Oh dear, seems like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Reagan laughed nervously.

"In case you three haven't noticed, the wizards here a bit prejudiced against you."

"I think a bit is stretching it." Sammy muttered.

"How sad." Reagan's face fell.

"I'm not prejudiced!" Harry exclaimed.

"Good for you." Bridgit gave her weak congratulations, fighting her natural urges to comment on his pride.

Reagan smiled warmly and Sammy looked like he wanted to kill Harry.

"I think it's time to get to class." Sammy said curtly.

She took Reagan by the arm in a gentlemanly fashion and led him away.

"Methinks Sammy has the hots for Reagan." Bridgit whispered to Cora.

"How very interesting." Cora laughed. "What do we have first?" She changed the subject to something they could discuss in front of the others.

"Umm, first is divination with professor Trelawny." Harry muttered. "She's always predicting my death."

"You mean she's trying to kill you? Where is she? We'll get her for you, Harry!" Cora piped up instantly.

"Well, she's right over there." Harry pointed.

"No!" Hermione restrained Cora. "Violence is not the answer. Besides, she's not actively trying to kill him. She's really quite harmless, except for the unimaginable damage she causes your brain.

"Do we have to protect his brain?" Cora whispered to Bridgit.

"I don't think so." Bridgit whispered back. "Reagan and I were pretty good at divination back home, so we got to skip taking the last two years because we passed a test." Bridgit covered for the continued whispering, speaking aloud.

"Really? It's unfortunate we don't have that here. Anything to get me out of that stupid class." Harry muttered.

"Umm…you're the one that picked it. Remember?" Hermione poked him.

"Only half an hour left before class, Hermione! You'd better get prepared!" Harry almost sounded like he meant what he said.

"Oh my gosh! Time really does fly!" Hermione ran to go prepare her things.

"Well, I guess I'll see you there." Harry said as he left.

"But we don't know where it is!" Bridgit realized after he had left.

Cora looked at her schedule in confusion.

"What? What's a loft? And where do we find it?"

"Umm…excuse me." A familiar voice interrupted their mass panic. "I couldn't help but overhear that you don't know where your first class is. I have divination first as well, so I can show you where it is if you meet me by the fat lady in five minutes." Neville offered with a smile.

"What? Which fat lady? That one?" Bridgit pointed at Professor Sprout.

"Umm…let's go this way now." Neville ushered them away before Sprout could figure out what had happened. "That's what we call the portrait in front of Gryffindor, by the way."

"I knew that!" Cora looked haughtily at Bridgit.

"Yeah right! You were the one running towards Professor Sprout yelling 'last one to the fat lady is a rotten egg!'" Bridgit shot back.

"Damn. We _**do**_ need diplomacy." Cora sighed.

They all went back to their dorms and got their stuff for the next few classes. Neville led the way to an attic in the school. One by one, everyone climbed a silk ladder. When Bridgit and Cora entered, they wrinkled their noses.

"Why is she burning sleepsage? Does she want everyone to fall asleep?" Cora asked.

"Welcome, my pupils." A misty voice said from an undisclosed location.

"You know, it's said that too much exposure to sleepsage is addictive and intoxicating." Bridgit said quite loudly.

"I am Professor Trelawny." The voice ignored them. "Please seat yourself at a square table."

"Uhh, they're round." Cora said.

"Of course, but tomorrow they'll be square." The voice explained.

"Oooooh! She's so mysterious." Said Violet.

"Oh please. What kind of lame-ass prediction is that? You ordered square tables yesterday with built-in crystal balls because today Neville here will somehow break every single one simultaneously." Cora said, reading a stray receipt she had picked up from the floor.

"You lose ten percent for accuracy." The voice said.

"So?" Cora muttered quietly, having committed herself to insubordination.

"I have a prediction," Bridgit began, "the mysterious voice will fall from above due to termites."

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and something fell from the ceiling. Everyone snickered at the antics Bridgit and Cora in amusement. It was a welcome change from when it was aimed at them.

"Very well, you shall not lose ten percent for accuracy, Bridgit. Your friend, however, still loses her mark."

"Damn. If I don't pass this course, I'll have to get a real job." Cora moaned sarcastically.

Everyone laughed.

"Don't feel bad. It takes time to become an expert like me!"

Suddenly, Professor Trelawny sneezed.

"_Geshuniet_!" Neville said. "Ooops! I accidentally cast a spell!"

Suddenly, all of the crystal balls exploded, sending shards of glass all over the place.

"Oh yeah, still got it!" Cora crowed, ripping up the receipt.

"I would ask all injured students to..."

Professor Trelawny was interrupted by Reagan.

"Sorry, I was brushing up on my divination skills and foresaw that the crystal balls would explode. I would ask all injured students to stand over there." He said.

All of the cut students stood in a circle and Reagan cast a healing spell. Bridgit and Cora simply pulled out the glass shards and ignored the cuts, pretending to be macho.

"Are you guys okay?" Asked Harry.

"They're not that bad, especially compared to what a Displacer beast can do to you." Cora said in an offhanded manner.

"It stops stinging when the blood stops bleeding." Bridgit added brightly.

The two, secretly pansies, cried on the inside.

Harry looked blankly at Bridgit.

"Don't worry about it." Cora said.

Professor Trelawny was extremely angered at how these children were better than her.

"Class is dismissed. I have foreseen that you need the extra time." She said in a somewhat less misty voice.

"Sure do after all that crap." Bridgit muttered.

"But what will we do with the extra time!" Violet cried. "I know! Cora! Bridgit! Teach me your secrets."

However, Cora and Bridgit had, without the advantage of divination, foreseen that and had jumped down the ladder and run away.

"That was so good!" Harry laughed.

"No it wasn't! It was mean and uncalled for!" Ron snapped.

"What do you have against them?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. All I know is they're evil savages from the colonies!" Ron said.

"They're not evil, and they're not savages. As far as I can tell, they're nice, smart polite, strong, beautiful, talented..." Harry got a dreamy look on his face. "Especially that Reagan."

Ron gave Harry a strange look. "You sure that you like Reagan, the one from Canada?"

"I never said I liked her!" Harry said defensively.

"Just asking." Ron put up his hands.

"You know, it's not easy being singled out. It makes you feel alone." Harry brushed away a tear, "So alone. Let's go make them feel welcome."

"Fine, whatever." Ron was obviously in ill humor.

Ron and Harry searched throughout the entire school, but couldn't find them. Harry got an idea and took out the Marauder's map.

"It says here that they're…*gasp!* Oh no! They're all under the whomping willow!" Harry exclaimed.

"They must have been pummeled to near death already! We have to get help!" Ron said.

"There's no time!" Harry, ever the one for heroics, pulled Ron after him.

They ran all the way outside towards the tree.

* * *

"You know, you guys should really be looking after Potter." Sammy said.

Bridgit and Cora had gone off to the whomping willow only to discover that Sammy and Reagan were also there.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the school?" Cora shot back.

"Yeah…and we are. It's right there, see?" Sammy pointed.

"A-OK." Reagan added.

"Back to Harry…"

"I know, but it's the first day. How much trouble could he possibly get into? And besides, I thought you had classes!" Cora shot back with another accusation.

"I guess I was mistaken." Sammy grinned.

"We have a spare." Reagan explained.

Cora pouted and Bridgit looked confused.

"A spare what?"

"You know what? On second thought, that Potter kid's got a bad track record for luck. I have a bad feeling all of a sudden. I'm going to go find him." Cora suddenly felt uneasy under Sammy's blistering glare.

"I agree…let's all go with you." Reagan, in the interest of policing Cora into actually doing what she said, put a firm hand on her shoulder.

When they had walked twenty feet from the tree, they heard screams. They turned around and saw Harry and Ron being waved through the air being held by Wally, the whomping willow tree.

"Ahhhhh! I'm going to be sick!" Ron screamed.

"I'll save you!" Harry cried in response.

"You idiot! You're in the same pickle I am!" Ron shouted back.

Cora snickered. "Heh…pickle."

"I like pickles." Bridgit went all watery-eyed, suddenly wanting for a pickle.

"Uh, you guys? We have to save him!" Sammy pointed out. "And I suppose the other kid, too."

"Do we have to? Bridgit whined.

"Do you want to face Trex for failing your mission…after one day?" Reagan gave them an exasperated look.

Bridgit' eyes went wide. "I don't wanna be held back a grade!"

"Enough of that! Let's save them!" Cora leapt into action.

They all started sprinting towards the tree. Cora and Reagan were ahead of Bridgit and Sammy.

"Stop Wally!" Reagan yelled.

But the willow was in too much of a frenzy to listen.

"Quick, Cora! We need to cast a sleeping spell at the same time!" Reagan began.

"And.." Cora and Reagan were grabbed around the middle and lifted into the air before they could complete the spell.

"Reagan!" Sammy screamed.

"Sammy!" Reagan yelled.

"Cora! You okay?" Bridgit cried.

"Ack!" Cora wheezed.

The tree began to squeeze them, preventing any further spells. Without thinking, Bridgit cast the first spell that came to mind.

"_Shrinkus_!" She yelled.

The tree began to shrink, but that caused the constrictive branches to become even tighter.

"Reverse the spell!" Sammy yelled.

The tree stopped shrinking and grew back to its normal size. It then whacked Bridgit with one of its leafy branches sending her sailing through the air, through the attic window, into Professor Trelawny's classroom. She landed on the drugged Professor who smiled knowingly.

"I told you we would have a visitor." She said.

"No you didn't!" Draco Malfoy snorted.

"Well, I meant to." She said. "Draco, please assist this young lady to the infirmary."

"Fine." He muttered.

Using a levitation spell he led Bridgit' still form to the infirmary, not being the least bit cautious to prevent her head from bumping into corners and walls as he went.

The whomping willow began to constrict its branches again, causing much pain to its prisoners.

"Sleepamus!" Sammy yelled.

The whomping willow suddenly went limp and its prisoners fell to the ground. Sammy ran straight to Reagan.

"Are you alright?" She asked, cradling his head.

"_Mederi_." Reagan said.

His body glowed blue and his strength was restored. Sammy let go and stepped back. Reagan stood and cast a group healing spell and everyone else stood up.

"It's nice to know our leader cares about us too." Cora said. "Do you even know where Bridgit is and whether or not she's dead?"

Sammy's face turned white. "We'd better hurry." She said tensely as she began to run towards the building.

Everyone started running as well…even Harry and Ron.

"What were you guys doing there anyway? You almost got everyone killed." Cora snapped as they were running.

"Harry has a habit of doing that." Ron muttered.

Harry smacked him up-side the head. He permitted little back-talk from his underlings.

"Uhmm…never mind what we were doing there." Harry muttered, not wanting to reveal his ultimate secret… of love!

The group of five ran upstairs to Professor Trelawny's classroom.

"Ah. I had foreseen your arrival." She said in a misty voice. "You are looking for your shoes."

"No we're not! What did you do with Bridgit?" Sammy demanded.

"Who?"

"The girl who came flying through the window?"

"What window?" Professor Trelawny asked sleepily.

"What's the matter with her?" Sammy whispered.

"She's high on sleepsage." Cora whispered back.

"How about we just follow the trail of blood?" Reagan pointed at the ground.

"Oh, I hope she's okay." Cora wrung her hands nervously.

"Probably not." Sammy said. "We'd better hurry!"

They all followed the thin red line until they came upon Blindie who was wiping the trail up with a mop.

"Quick! You need to tell us where that trail of blood ends!" Sammy demanded.

"What trail of blood?" Blindie asked.

Before anything else could be said, a Chihuahua trotted up to Blindie. It sniffed at the tiny elf and began to growl viciously and started gnawing on Blindie's leg.

"Oh! It's Blindie's faithful Seeing Eye dog, Chewy! He is so playful and loyal."

All of a sudden, Chewy grabbed blindie's leg and tossed him up in the air. With a mighty gulp, the tiny dog ate the even tinier elf.

"Oh no. Now Blindie cannot finish mopping the floor." Said a voice from the dog's stomach.

"Uhhh…we'll worry about that one later." Cora muttered.

"Ehh, Harry, you go tell Dumbledore about his loss of a staff member while we find Bridgit." Sammy suggested.

Harry and Ron took off to go find Dumbledore while the others began to decide where to look next.

"Uh… Harry? Wouldn't she be in the infirmary? Shouldn't we tell them?" Ron asked as they ran down the opposite hallway.

"Not now Ron!" Harry snapped in response. "Reagan sent us on a mission, and God help me I'll see it through to the end! Or die trying!"

"Okay, where's the most logical place to look for Bridgit." Reagan asked.

"Well, she likes dark places. Maybe she's in the basement!" Cora said.

"She's unconscious and I doubt they'd put her in the basement." Sammy snorted.

"What about the infirmary?" Reagan suggested.

"Does this place even have one?" Sammy asked.

"Yes?"

"Well, where is it?" Cora asked.

"What are you students doing in the hallways during class time?" A cold, malicious voice snapped.

Everyone turned around to confront an unhappy man with greasy hair and sallow skin with a hooked nose.

"We're..."

"Ten points from...uhhh..."

"Ravenclaw." Sammy supplied a name.

"Right. Now what was it you were going to ask me?" He asked evilly. "And five more points for not knowing it."

"We need to know where the infirmary is." Reagan said.

"It's that way!" He screamed in rage.

"Thank you." Cora said sweetly.

"You're welcome." He hissed.

The man stormed off and kicked the prone form of Chewy into a wall. The dog groaned and rolled over.

"Well, you heard the emotionally disturbed guy, to the infirmary!" Sammy said.

They all ran off in different directions because when Snape had pointed, he was whirling around in circles. After ten minutes, Reagan was trapped in a room with thousands of doors on the wall, one of which opened up to the exit. Sammy had managed to end up in the teacher's lounge, which was lucky for her. Cora, however, was luckiest of all and had chosen the direction that did lead to the infirmary. Before she could walk in, Bridgit shuffled out.

"Remember to eat lots of raw turnips!" A voice called after her.

Bridgit threw up on the floor and the vomit mysteriously disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"COOL BEANS!" Bridgit' eyes went wide and she attempted to induce vomiting so she could see it again.

"Hey! You're okay!" Cora said, gently restraining her stupid friend.

"Well, I am now that crazy turnip woman is leaving me alone."

"So you're alright then?"

"Yes. Is everyone else okay?" Bridgit asked.

"Well, I think so, but some grouchy guy called Snape gave us mucked up directions and I lost everyone else. Except for Harry and Ron. They went to tell Dumbledore that Blindie was dead."

"What? What happened?"

"Oh, his seeing eye dog, Chewie, ate him."

Bridgit followed Cora in silent shock down the corridors as they searched for the others (except for Harry and Ron.) Finally, they caught up to Sammy.

"Hey! Where've you been?" Cora demanded.

Sammy stuffed the rest of a piece of pie she had been eating in her mouth and washed it down with a glass of rootbeer.

"Y'know, they have it a lot better than us. I went into the teacher's lounge and all of a sudden, house elves were all over me."

"Were they attacking you?" Bridgit asked in alarm.

"No, they were waiting on me hand and foot. It was awful! Except for the pie. They make better pie than anyone I know." Sammy said happily.

"Well good for you." Bridgit said bitterly.

"Let's find Reagan." Cora said.

"I'm right here." Said a tired voice from behind.

"Why bother looking for people when they just appear out of nowhere?"

"Actually," Reagan said. " I just opened the right door and I fell out of the wall."

They all stared at him in confusion.

"Never mind." He muttered.

"I think we should get to class now." Cora said. "That feels so weird. "

"Oh, thank you." Bridgit said sarcastically. "Now I have no excuses for missing the next boring and pointless class."

"Hey! We've got a class with that emotionally deranged guy." Cora exclaimed, looking at the schedule again.

"What emotionally deranged guy? How much stuff did I miss?" Bridgit asked.

"Enough."

"We ran into Snape in the hallway." Reagan explained.

"Hey! Potions might be interesting…we never learned that." Cora offered.

"Thank you Hermione." Bridgit said dryly.

"You're welcome!" A chipper voice perked up.

"WAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Bridgit screamed in alarm. "Hermione? When did you get here?"

"I'm on my way to potions, silly. You'd better hurry, or we'll be late."

"Well, have fun." Sammy said. "I've got history with that dead guy. See 'ya later."

She and Reagan walked off arm in arm.

"Oooohhhh," whispered Bridgit, "methinks two little lovebirds have the hots for each other."

"Oh, I'm sure it's something else. Reagan couldn't like someone like Sammy, could he? He'd want someone who would go shopping with him and could braid his hair."

"And Sammy would want a guy made of bricks that eats shell casings for breakfast." Bridgit rolled her eyes.

"They couldn't hook up…could they?"

The girls looked at each other uncertainly for a moment. Then they broke out in laughter.

"Like that would ever happen! They're like night and day." Bridgit said.

"And Sammy is night, of course." Cora added. "C'mon, let's get to potions."

Hermione hadn't understood the whole exchange, but she smiled all-knowingly.

"Right. It's this way!" She led them through the hallways.


	4. Meet Draco Malfoy

**Chapter Four: Meet Draco Malfoy**

A few minutes later, Cora and Bridgit were seated among Gryffindor students with Slytherins at the other side of the room. Hermione had insisted on sitting at the table next to them, while Neville ended up sitting next to Hermione because no one else wanted to be his partner. They had asked him why this was, and he had only muttered something about not being very good at potions, which they assumed was an understatement. Everyone looked miserable except for one boy. Before Snape arrived, that boy stood up. He had shockingly platinum blond hair and pale skin. His faded appearance was added to by his cold, blue eyes, which seemed to burn through everything. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, if it isn't the ragamuffins. I think it's a load of rubbish, you being on a cultural exchange: what are we to get out of it since you come from a backwater hole of a country? It's Dumbledore. He'll let anyone into this place! I suppose nothing should surprise me after he let in that giant half-baby." He leaned back, smugly riding the Slytherin snickers.

"Britain absolutely has an older established culture," Bridgit conceded, "but an unhealthy obsession with purity of aristocratic blood lines." She inclined her head, looking sympathetic, "Tell me: did your father marry your mother before or after he knew it was his sister?"

The boy went red in the face.

"You don't know who you're dealing with! I am Draco Malfoy!" He indignantly introduced himself, certain it would evoke fear and respect.

"So, what? You're the son of Dracula?"

"NO I'M NOT! I'm the son of one of the most influential members of this government, so you'd better watch it!" He screamed.

"You do realize that your government has no power or authority over us." Cora said coolly.

"Diplomatic immunity!" Bridgit cheered, holding up a card.

Malfoy emitted a frightened squeak. He sat down quickly and barked out orders.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Attack!"

"What's wrong? Can't speak in full sentences?" Bridgit childishly mocked him.

"You won't be able to shortly!" He screamed, turning a lovely shade of violet with rage.

Two ugly teens with greasy, unwashed hair and faces covered in pussy zits leapt up from their chairs and snarled menacingly. Cora winked and leaned over to grab a crowbar from her rucksack.

"NO! Diplomacy!" Bridgit whispered harshly.

Cora took out a smaller crowbar.

"Cora." Bridgit growled.

Crabbe and Goyle suddenly pushed Bridgit and Cora out of their chairs and laughed. Bridgit accidentally hit the back of her head on someone else's table and blacked out. Cora landed angrily and indignantly on her ass.

"But Professor Snape! We had to tell Dumbledore about Blindie!" Cora heard a voice protest.

"That's no excuse! You both get detention." Snape snapped at the tardy Harry and Ron.

Harry and Ron knew better than to argue. Before anything else could be said, Cora began to emit shrieks and screams of pain. Forcing tears, she flopped limply to the ground and began to bawl in mock pain.

"What is going on?" Snape roared. "Crabbe! Goyle! What in the name of Merlin's Chastity Belt do you think you're doing?"

"Attack!" They roared in unison and began kicking Cora.

"Stop it this instant!" Snape yelled with veins beginning to throb in his forehead.

"Duh, what means stop?" Asked Crabbe.

"Duh, it means attack more." Replied Goyle.

Snape flew into an unbelievable rage. He had deducted ten billion points from Slytherin and had pulled the two boys by the ears all the way to Dumbledore's before he realized what he was doing. He left the two to be dealt with by Dumbledore and ran back to the classroom, realizing he had forgotten the exchange students. When he got back, the two girls were both conscious and nursing their wounds, and the entire class was sitting stony faced in terror.

"Why didn't anyone help these two!" He roared.

"Umm, because you said we weren't allowed to move until you got back." Said a timid voice.

"Well I don't care what I said before! You all get detention!" Snape paused, realizing that the other class present was Slytherin…his own house. "On second thought…Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasely will receive an additional two weeks of detention." He paused again. "Because…if I hadn't needed to go get them, then I would have been here to stop that horrible beating. Yes…that's it." He seemed quite smug with himself.

"Hermione! Flunkie! Take these two to the infirmary." Snape roared challengingly. "And you'd better be quick about it!" He spat.

Hermione and Flunkie grumbled and began dragging Cora and Bridgit from the room. When the two girls were sure they were out of earshot, they started laughing.

"You know," Hermione said wryly, "detention was worth seeing Crabbe and Goyle getting busted. Maybe they might even get suspended."

"Wait a minute! Aren't you capable of defending yourself against that? I mean, it's almost like you allowed it to happen." Flunkie exclaimed.

Before Bridgit and Cora were forced into explaining themselves, that Cora exaggerated her injuries and that Bridgit had been caught off guard, Flunkie disappeared in a pouf of smoke.

"What the hell?" Cora exclaimed.

"It was disturbing…but oddly convenient." Bridgit muttered.

With a puff of smoke, Dumbledore appeared before them. Everyone emitted a shriek of surprise.

"I wish you wouldn't do that!" Cora made to punch him in the face, but her respect of the elderly held her back.

"My appologies. I've come to say that Crabbe and Goyle are being expelled so as not to upset the relationship between our two countries." He winked. "I also wanted an excuse to get rid of them."

Bridgit nodded and with the air of a dignitary, she said,

"I accept your token of friendship. May our countries be allies in the hard times ahead."

Dumbledore nodded and disappeared again.

"I wonder where he'll appear next?" Hermione pondered.

* * *

At another end of the school, a tiny house elf named Strokie jumped back and screamed as the headmaster Dumbledore appeared in his cauldron of soup. Strokie, almost living up to his name, had a heart attack and died.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore sighed, "that's two in one day."

* * *

Cora and Bridgit, who had just come from the medical wing, gratefully finished off the mandarin oranges that Madame Pomfrey had given to them.

"That was much better than last time." Bridgit muttered as a headless man walked by.

Both girls stopped in shock and did a double take as they realized that the headless man wasn't a ghost. If it weren't for the man's attire, they wouldn't have been able to tell who it was, since he had no face. The man was garbed in flowing black robes, just like professor Snape. What really gave it away was the name badge that said 'Hello. My name is Professor Severus Snape'.

"Professor Snape?" Cora asked in alarm.

The figure turned slowly to face them.

"Uhhh, what happened?" Asked Bridgit.

"I'm terribly sorry that my appearance troubles you. I accidentally took too much vanishing potion. I'll see you ladies tomorrow in my potions…class. Ha ha ha!" He laughed at his own terrible joke and turned to walked on.

"He's too nice. His story is a transparent lie." Bridgit made a mutant baby of a joke.

"Well we don't have time to worry about that! We have to get to defense against the dark arts." Cora hurried Bridgit through the corridors until they reached a classroom.

Sitting at a desk before the class was a thin, pretty woman with red hair and green eyes. She smiled as all of the students filed in and took their seats.

"Good afternoon class," she said in a beautiful voice, "I am Professor Summersong. I'll be the new defense against dark arts teacher."

"How is someone like _you_ going to teach us how to defeat monsters?" asked Malfoy indignantly. "Not all of us have feminine wiles.

The Professor smiled good-naturedly.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you're too modest of your own attributes." She turned to address the class. "Now, I'm here to teach you defense against the dark arts. What many people do not realize, is that it isn't always necessary to be physically powerful or even in shape, although it certainly would help. All it requires is courage, discipline and a quick mind. You see, in situations such as those that would require my teachings, it is these three things that will most certainly save your life."

A murmur of approval spread through the class at her eloquent introduction. Malfoy, on the other hand, folded his arms across his chest and began muttering from underneath his desk where he was hiding out of fear. Without Crabbe and Goyle, he felt naked and exposed to the likelihood of his comeuppances.

"Today, I will teach you about the stratavarious spell. Can anyone tell me what the stratavarious spell is?"

Hermione began waving her hand urgently as Bridgit and Cora calmly raised their hands slowly.

"Yes Miss Granger."

Hermione's face lit up at the prospect of being chosen to answer a question. In her element, she sat up straight and began to speak in her trademark know-it-all voice.

"It's a spell that makes a giant, gold, violin appear which can crush even an elephant under its weight."

"I don't see how you could have gotten such a ridiculous idea into your head." Professor Summersong frowned whilst ignoring the myriad of far more ridiculous spells in her own repertoire. Like the one that changed unsightly moles into adorable kitten stickers

"What?" Hermione looked aghast, "I'm wrong?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. But that's okay-"

Hemione ran crying from the room. Ron suddenly looked uncomfortable and turned to Harry.

"Darn. I think maybe I shouldn't have magically changed her textbook. Now she'll never date me." He whined.

"Do you think Reagan likes me?" Harry asked distractedly.

"Huh? Hey! We're talking about me for once!" Ron snapped.

"Unless you'd like to repeat that entire conversation to the rest of the class, I suggest you pay attention." Professor Summersong scolded them.

Ron started to open his mouth, but Harry nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Miss Willowstaff, could you tell the class what this spell does."

Cora leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the desk.

"Well, basically, it's a beautiful song that keeps you enraptured in the sound. If you listen until the end of the song, you'll die."

"Very good, that is correct. However I disapprove of your devil may care attitude. Today, I'll be teaching you how to defend against this spell. Do not worry; the spell is only fatal when you hear the whole song. It is a clean method of assassination without a way to find who was at fault; however it hasn't really been used since the early days of You-Know-Who. In the early 80's they switched to using the killing curse, finding it more in keeping with their death motif."

The rest of the class was spent with Professor Summersong casting the spell and trying to get her students to protect themselves from its enchanting melody. By the end of the class, only Bridgit, Cora, and Harry had been able to resist it totally. Hermione hadn't come back at all during the class and there was a certain amount of speculation as to whether or not she would have been able to resist it as well. In fact, upon learning that homework for next class would be to perfect defenses against the spell pending another the following day, everyone was laying down their bets. Chinsey Ragamuffin grinned at all of the sickles he held in his hands. Odds were twenty to one that Hermione would actually succeed in holding off the spell. The way things looked, he was bound to make a nice profit. He chuckled as he left the room.

"Good work today, girls. You put in a commendable effort. It's not easy to resist that spell. Pass on that message to Harry as well." Professor Summersong called after Bridgit and Cora as they headed out.

Cora smirked with pride as she strutted all down the hallway. Bridgit was pleased to get a compliment and especially pleased with that one. It was such nice music that she could barely resist the temptation to listen to the whole thing.

"Oh…speaking of Harry, we're supposed to be guarding him." Bridgit realized.

"Oh yeah. We'd better catch up."

They started running after Harry and Ron.

"Hey, Harry! Wait up!" Cora called out to them.

"I'm just so in love with you Harry! I need to let you know right now!" Bridgit mocked Cora by quietly imitating her.

"What?" Harry turned around in confusion.

Cora didn't care that he hadn't heard Bridgit. She drew back her fist and punched her friend square in the face.

Bridgit fell to the ground in a twitching heap.

"Quiet you!" Cora snapped. "Let's go!" She turned to Harry and Ron.

"What about her?" Ron pointed to Bridgit, voicing the question on both of the horrified boys' minds.

"Meh. Leave her. She'll be fine." Cora glared at her immobilized friend. "Oh….ummm…Prof. Summersong says 'good job'." Cora added to try and break the terror-inspired silence.

"Oh. Okay." Harry said distractedly.

"Well? Let's go!" Cora said impatiently.

Both boys flinched.

"Yes ma'am!" They chorused.

They took off. Two minutes later, Bridgit sprang to her feet.

"Wait for meeeee!" She wailed.

She caught up to the party of three at the portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"I think you almost knocked a tooth loose that time!" Bridgit struck up conversation.

"Well, I have taken to wearing this ring I 'found'." Cora displayed a large ring shaped like a skull made of diamonds.

"Neat!" Bridgit laughed, blood gushing from her mouth.

"…You two have a strange relationship. And I don't mean Dumbledore and Hagrid strange." Harry muttered, clearly disturbed.

"No! We're just really close." Cora objected.

"We've known each other since we be tweenies!" Bridgit added.

"Right." Both clearly had no idea what that meant.

"Excuse me!" A crisp, irritated voice snapped as a prissy blonde wench tried to push through their group. "You're blocking the way to the common room!"

The small gathering parted for her.

"Sorry, Lemoney." Cora fake-apologized.

"She's such a bitch." Bridgit whispered after Lemoney had gone in behind the portrait.

"It's not just chance that her last name is Strumpet." Harry snickered.

"Yeah! I heard she even polished Fudgey's broomstick." Ron lowered his voice, clearly loving being a gossip.

"I'm starting to think that maybe I wasn't crazy when I thought I heard a baby crying in the walls." Bridgit looked slightly mortified.

"She should be careful or else she'll end up with lemony crumpets in the oven." Harry burst out laughing at his own joke.

Bridgit and Cora smiled in pity at the two friends, now roaring with laughter at their attack on teen pregnancy.

"You know, maybe you blokes aren't so bad after all." Ron smiled back, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Glad you think so." Cora muttered.

"Are you going to stand out there all day or are you going to come in!" The portrait snapped at them.

"Sorry!" Bridgit yelped in surprise.

The four entered the common room, not as two groups of friends, but as a group of four friends united by a common hatred of someone else. Kumbaya. Cora suddenly stiffened upon hearing a soft _click_, which no one else seemed to notice. She grabbed Bridgit' arm, causing her to stop in her tracks. It was only then that the four of them noticed the ropes and pulleys strung all across the room. That and the fact that Ron had just set off the trip wire.

"Oh no…" Ron looked in horror at his foot.

"What the hell is this?" Cora asked.

"Well…I heard some people talking about…well…maybe kind of…giving you a bit of a hard time by… … setting booby traps all over the place." Ron explained squeamishly.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Cora demanded.

"Well, I didn't know they'd gone through with it! Besides, I didn't want to invoke your wrath!" Ron explained as the pulleys began to move, attached to various weights suspended throughout the room.

"Well, I'd say now my wrath is pretty invoked!" Cora growled.

"I wonder what the trap is?" Harry wondered aloud, ignoring everyone but himself.

"Ummm…how about something to do with that?" Bridgit muttered dryly, pointing to a cannon in the middle of the room.

The portrait swung open behind them, but no one paid any attention to it.

"The only thing to do now is to get it before it gets us!" Cora raised her arms, preparing for an attack.

"No need." Said a voice from behind.

"You're in no danger where you are." An identical voice added.

"Although Harry and Ron are."

Bridgit and Cora turned around as the cannon fired. Behind them stood two identical boys with flaming red hair. They ignored the screams of Harry and Ron.

"I'm Fred Weasely and this is my brother, George." Fred introduced themselves.

"Charmed!" Bridgit shook their hands.

"So what do you guys know about traps? How did you know it wouldn't hit us?" Cora asked, suspicious that they might have been the instigators.

"Well, we've made a fair number of traps ourselves and we could tell that the result of this one's failure to hit its targets was simply bad physics." George explained.

"Ahhhhh! We're covered in purple spots!" Ron yelled.

"Blimey!" Harry added.

Both of the boys were, not surprisingly, covered in bright purple spots. Bridgit fought to hold back her laughter.

"I say, Ron! That really brings out the colour in your eyes. Mum'll be impressed!" Fred winked.

"Why didn't you warn us?" Ron demanded indignantly.

"We DID. If only you'd listened!" George laughed.

~This seems like a time to ensure friendly relations with the Potter kid.~ Cora thought irately.

"Oh! Harry and Ron! Thank you both so much for shielding us from the trap, even though you didn't know what it would do! How selfless! How brave! I can tell we're going to be best friends forever." Cora said, rather convincingly.

Everyone gave her an odd look.

"All in a days work." Harry said slowly, offering what he hoped was a dashing grin.

~They think I'm great! Hurrah!~ Ron thought to himself.

"Maybe you guys should go to the infirmary and get those removed." Bridgit suggested.

"Yeah. I don't think that Reagan digs the colour purple." Cora said in an offhanded sort of way.

"Oh. Well, we should get these off right away." Harry said quickly. "Not that it has anything to do with what you said, but it's best to make sure that this won't have any adverse effects on my dear friend Ron's health." Harry grabbed Ron and bolted from the room.

Sammy and Reagan came through the door, looking rather amused.

"Just what was all that about?" Sammy asked. "He threw a bag over his head and bolted after he saw us."

"Oh. Harry and Ron got shot by a trap." Bridgit loosely explained.

"Yes. They selflessly sacrificed their bodies for the sake of these two, fragile young ladies." George crooned in falsetto, mocking Cora.

"Fragile my ass." Sammy raised an eyebrow.

"I HAPPEN TO BE VERY DELICATE!" Cora growled, kicking her in the stomach.

Sammy fell to the ground and didn't move.

"Oh dear." Reagan muttered. "Why do you always have to be so violent?"

"Well, why do YOU have to be so violent?" Cora shot back.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Or does it?"

"Well, while you two are busy being delicate, Fred and I are off to supper." George teased them.

"Supper!" Sammy jumped up.

"What's with all these strings?" Neville asked as he came down the stairs.

"Never mind that. Let's just go to dinner." Reagan sighed.

They exited the Gryffindor common room, irritating the fat lady in the process.

"I just let you in, you assholes! You think I like looking at this wall?"

And so ended their first day at Hogwart's, although upon asking around they never did find out who laid the trap.


	5. Mulligan!

**Chapter Five: Mulligan!**

Bridgit and Cora were exhausted from listening to a room full of girls discussing crushes and other such useless information all night long, never ceasing to giggle for an instant.

"I'm glad we're guarding Harry…He's not a girl." Bridgit moaned, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.

"Well, he's almost as bad when he's pining about Reagan." Cora muttered darkly, bags under her eyes.

"What was that?" Reagan inquired as the two reached the common room.

"Nothing!" Cora said quickly.

They then noticed Sammy, who was also apparently waiting for them. She turned to them, covered in an air of brevity.

"Guys, guys, guys! We need to talk!" She said urgently.

Reagan looked concerned.

"For privacy's sake, why don't you tell us halfway up the stairs?" Cora suggested.

"Oh no! I'm not doing that again." Sammy shuddered.

She remembered a previous instance where Bridgit and Cora had lured her up the stairs and then pushed her all the way down yelling 'Everyone loves a Slinky!'

"Well, what is it?" Bridgit asked.

"We can't discuss it openly." Sammy reminded them. "So stop playing childish games. We have work to do." She openly chastised Bridgit and Cora.

"So, we can't discuss the mission in public, but she can berate us in front of everyone?" Bridgit muttered.

They all walked to a secluded corner - Bridgit and Cora far more sulkily than Reagan. The secluded corner, very isolated and lonely, was happy to have visitors.

The four quickly realized why the corner was abandoned. There was a student-made death shrine of cardboard with many rocks listing the names of all Gryffindor students who didn't survive their year at Hogwart's. Sammy ignored this and continued.

"Bad news. They have a school wide Quidditch thing going on and it just so happens that Harry is on the team and that the practices take up a fair amount of his life." she spelled it out.

"So?" Cora raised an eyebrow. "Are you worried about his grades or something?"

"Yeah, we're not supposed to be guarding his dignity." Bridgit added.

"No, but you are supposed to be guarding him at all times, which means that you need to be at these practices. Unless, of course, you want him to think you like him." She grinned evilly.

"NO!" The girls recoiled in horror.

"Right. At least one of us needs to be on the team so that we have an excuse to keep tabs on him during each practice. By the way, the try-outs are today."

"That was such a Trex moment." Bridgit pointed out.

"Shut up." Sammy said in embarrassment.

"Count me in." Bridgit offered.

"I'm a great Quidditch player! This will be easy!" Cora grinned.

"O-okay. I'll be there too, then." Reagan said uncertainly.

There was an awkward pause.

"Actually, if we ALL go, I think it will look a little suspicious." Sammy tried to look like she hadn't already thought about this. "We'll need someone to stay behind. I hate to do this Reagan, but you need to be a team player and sit this one out."

"Okay." He smiled, obviously not the least bit upset.

"Now, the position we're trying out for is keeper. Their last one graduated. Any problems?" They all failed to notice the rock with the name "Oliver Wood – Quidditch Captain – Falling Meteor" written on it in an untidy scrawl.

"Nope!"

"Good! See you at the pitch at lunch."

"What nonsense is this?" McGonagall briskly stormed up to them.

"We weren't touching it, honest! We revere the spirits of the dead!" Bridgit protested.

"No, this isn't a death shrine! No one ever dies at Hogwart's. This is clearly a student prank. It happens every year." She swept the entire display up and threw it out the window. It landed on an unfortunate student out for a morning jog.

"But didn't a student die last year?" Some kid piped up.

"He didn't count. It didn't happen on school grounds."

"What about the kid who died in the bathroom?"

"All hearsay! Now go eat breakfast!" She snapped, fleeing from the probing questions.

"Well, what wonderful classes await us today?" Bridgit muttered dryly as the hubbub died down.

"Well, first we have Care of Magical Creatures!" Hermione popped out of nowhere.

By now, Bridgit and Cora were sort of used to her random appearances, so they were only slightly alarmed.

"How do you know that?" Cora asked.

"I have copies of your schedules!" Hermione beamed.

"You're a little scary." Bridgit admitted.

"Well, if being well-informed is scary, then I'm terrifying." She said proudly.

"That you are." Cora assured her.

"Hey…I never noticed this before, but you have the exact same schedule as Harry!" Hermione had an epiphany.

"Uhmmm…wow! What a coincidence! Let's get to class now!" Cora muttered.

"The early bird catches the worm!" Bridgit smiled nervously.

"You're right…but what about breakfast?"

"Breakfast is for slackers." Cora said with a deadpan expression.

"You two need to get your priorities straight." Hermione looked at them. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It gives you the boost you need to keep your brain active during the precious, precious school hours. Why, without breakfast, you would be nothing! Nothing but mindless lumps of flesh. Now come, let us go eat."

"Uh…okay."

They followed her to the Great Hall, glad to have gotten her mind off of the subject of sharing stalker-ish tendencies.

* * *

After breakfast, they went outside to a run-down little shack made of wood.

"What is this?" Cora asked.

"This is where Hagrid lives!" Harry, Ron and Hermione cheered, looking excited.

"Only a mudblood lot like you would be common enough to take a liking to a living pile of hair." Malfoy sneered.

"You're just jealous that you don't have friends any more." Hermione snapped back smugly.

"That's where you're wrong." Malfoy grinned maliciously. "Replacements Crabbe and Goyle! Report!"

Two equally-sized gargantuan teenage boys lumbered up to stand beside Malfoy. Everyone gazed at them in shock.

"Oh my gosh. They look meaner than the originals!" Ron moaned.

"Replacement Crabbe and Goyle? What the heck?" Cora demanded.

"Don't you guys have real names?" Bridgit asked.

"Duhhhh…I forgoqtted." Replacement Crabbe drooled, somehow including the letter 'Q'.

The replacement Goyle looked sad, and stared down at the ground.

"I had a name once, but not anymore." He sighed mournfully.

"Okay then…"

_**The dumb one is a better replacement than that whiner.**_ A cold voice commented.

"Huh? Moonmist? What are you doing here?" Cora turned to her dragonette.

"Hmmm…maybe you're right. This one doesn't look like he has much fight in him." Malfoy engaged Moonmist in conversation.

_**Well, I had this problem once too. What I found to be the most effective was-**_

"Moonmist!" Cora grabbed him. "Idiot! We don't like him." She hissed.

_**Oh. Well, it would help if you would tell us what's going on instead of locking us in the dorms.**_

"Yeah!" Tigerscry flew out from some nearby bushes.

"Is there anyone else out there?" Cora called into the bushes.

"No!" Toucey replied.

There was a pause, after which Drifter sulked out of the bushes with a toad riding on his head. Toucey suddenly landed on Drifter's rump and gave him a nasty peck.

"You blew our cover!" Toucey squawked.

"You are so stupid." Drifter muttered, flicking the bird off with his tail. "I'm so glad I found you, Trevor."

"GAHHHH." Trevor replied.

"What are you guys doing out here?" Bridgit shook her head in bewilderment.

"It's boring inside. We were going to go play leprechaun croquet in the forest."

"How many times have we told you that it hurts the leprechauns?" Bridgit reprimanded them.

"But…but…the forbidden forest is forbidden!" Hermione wailed.

"For students." Cora clarified.

Hermione gasped and pulled out a rule book.

"You're right! That's such a relief."

"Well, I guess you guys could hang out here. You need the exercise. Just don't get into any trouble." Bridgit consented.

Just then, the door burst open and out came Hagrid. What magical wisdom will he impart?

"Good mornin' to yeh'. Now, Today, we're going teh- DRAGONS!" He suddenly noticed Tigerscry and Moonmist.

He pushed some kids roughly out of his way and ran to the dragons and gave them a huge hug.

_**Can I hurt him PLEASE?**_ Moonmist was quite uncomfortable.

"No! He's a teacher." Hermione exclaimed. "That would be a sign of disrespect."

_**I don't care!**_

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, buddy? You don't just go around hugging other people's things!" Cora fumed.

_**What? I'm not your property! I'm-well, if it will get me out of this…**_ Moonmist grudgingly shut up.

"Just because you're a teacher doesn't mean you can throw your authority around like this! You're just a stupid sonnova- I'm terribly sorry for this misunderstanding, sir. I tend to explode when things that are mine are taken out of my control." Cora stopped and clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in horror. She decided to try again. "Sometimes I get a little carried away and become violent. Still, this is no excuse for the language I used." She stopped, looking like she was going to cry. "So I sincerely apologize and humbly request that you let Moonmist go."

"Oh, sorry abou' that. I just' really love dragons." Hagrid obliged.

Cora suddenly whirled around.

"What the hell was that about?" She moaned. "How did those things come out of my mouth?"

"Well…" Bridgit faltered under Cora's knowing glare. "Reagan taught me this really nifty spell. He said it was for emergencies and I thought this was one, so I used it."

Cora suddenly looked furious.

"A PLUS SOCIAL SKILL SPELL! HOW COULD YOU?" She exploded. " This will alienate me from my gaming clan!"

"Hey, wait a minute!" Hagrid interrupted Bridgit' potential ass kicking. "How can yeh' have dragons?"

Hermione put her hand up and waved it around in the air.

"Well, you see we're-" Cora started to explain.

"Yes, Hermione." Hagrid pointed at her.

"You see, these are dragonettes. While they are exotic animals, you can have them if you a have a permit, which they do." She explained.

"Huh! Favouritism." Bridgit huffed.

"No. You're not supposed to speak without raising your hand." Hermione informed them.

"But class hasn't started yet." Cora growled.

"Yes it has! It starts the moment the teacher comes in." Harry explained.

"Or in this case, out." Malfoy snickered. No one understood what he meant and the silence was only broken by the slow heavy laughter of Replacement Crabbe, who was looking at a ladybug in childish delight. Replacement Goyle was still staring at his shoes in sadness. Annoyed by the lack of response, Malfoy proceeded to take his new lackeys to task.

"What are two you lagabouts doing? You're supposed to be watching and intimidating people so that they have to listen to me." Malfoy snapped at the two.

"Duhhh…Malfoy is more righter than you." Replacement Crabbe muttered.

"What?" Everyone looked at him like he was an idiot…which he was.

"But…Mr. Malfoy, your insult clearly lacked dimension and was difficult to understand, even in context. Furthermore…"

"SILENCE!" Malfoy boomed.

"I'm sorry sir!" Replacement Goyle cowered and then began to cry.

"Agh! I never thought I'd ever say this, but I miss Crabbe and Goyle." Malofy sighed, smacking his head against a tree.

"Well, if yer all done wi' your stories, now class can begin." Hagrid gave the three a reproachful glance. "Righ' then, today's lesson will be about Cradillos. Follow me to th' pens."

Hagrid started walking to the back of his cottage with long strides. The rest of his class had to jog to catch up to them and when they did, they all looked at the sight before them in amazement. Instead of the slimy, dangerous worms they were certain awaited them, they found instead a flock of somewhat endearing-looking creatures. Aside from the tail with four spines on it, they looked like the very idea of harmless and cute.

"Righ', now as you approach, be careful not to make any sudden movements."

"Will they eat us?" Neville fearfully quaked.

"Nah. They're herbivorous. An' they'll consider it a predatory act if you breathe loudly or make any sudden moves and they'll try to run away. Yeh best not be spookin' em, those tails are mighty fierce when used for self-defense."

Everyone slowly leaned over the rails surrounding the pen to watch the animals.

"Oooh! They're so cuuute!" Lavender cooed.

"Well…they're interesting at the very least." Cora gave the animals a sideways glance.

_**They're stupid-looking and they smell bad!**_ Moonmist griped.

"I don't smell anything."

_**That's because you have a stupid human nose. You might as well not have one at all.**_

It was at this point Cora shut him up with a rather pointed glance.

The creatures before them had scaly arms and legs splayed out to the sides, much like a crocodile's. However, the torso was covered in a soft, fluffy wool coat from which emerged an adorable face with big brown eyes and two floppy ears.

"These are jus' babies, and it'll be your full term project to raise them and train them to do what they do best."

"Do they attack people?" Neville asked, still waiting for the scary part.

"Nah. Who can tell me wha' they do?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air like she had just planted it on a burning stove. Cora grinned. Now was the time for sweet, sweet revenge. She tickled Hermione's underarm, preventing her from answering the question.

"I'll bet they taste good with ketchup." Malfoy said snidely.

Hagrid frowned.

"Nah, that's not wha' they're for. I'm surprised you didn't know the answer, Miss Granger, and am very disappointed in you. These young ones can absorb any magic shot at them as a natural ability. When cradillos reach their adult form, they emit a radius that can absorb many common spells. They're trained to be pets for witches and wizards suffering from _Magicusalvi defusio_, a condition where they can' control any magical outbursts."

Hermione, oblivious to the continuing lesson, whimpered and tried to look like she wasn't fighting back tears.

"Ah, sort of like a seeing-eye dog?" Bridgit piped up.

"A wha'? I guess so…" Hagrid looked uncertain.

"I'll shank you while you're sleeping" Hermoine said quietly to Bridgit. "Then the circle of knowledge will be restored."

Her dignity salvaged and authority maintained, Hermione was able to focus on the lesson.

"Now firs', I wan' each of yeh to find a cradillos, approach it slowly, feed them some of these pepper corns and stroke the wool on their back. After doin' this, they'll be able to recognize and respond to you in future classes."

Each student was handed a small bag of pepper corns and was told to climb into the pen. Neville, shaking in the knees, feared some sort of shark-like attack.

"I'm not going in there. It reeks of filth." Malfoy glared at the cradillos.

"Actually, they're quite clean. Yeh see, a cradillos' method of waste disposal is to-"

To spare themselves disturbing mental images, Bridgit and Cora hopped over the fence and quickly walked out of earshot. Bridgit headed off in a different direction from Cora to find a cradillos. Cora was about to start walking, when she felt something bumping against her leg. She looked down and her gaze was met by soft, brown eyes. The cradillos tried to climb up her leg to get at her bag of pepper corns.

"Well, aren't we a greedy little one? Reminds me of my other pet." Cora grinned.

_**What?**_ Moonmist snapped indignantly. _**I'm not your pet! And I'm certainly not greedy! This is pointless! Why don't you just kick it? That'll make it go away.**_

"No! I like it!" Cora smiled, bending down and feeding it some pepper corns. "I'm going to call it Aluicious."

_**How about Delicious? I agree with blond kid. It looks tasty.**_

Cora chose to ignore Moonmist.

"Alucious is what I was going to name Moonmist if he had been a girl!" Cora cooed to it.

_**You're really messed up! I don't even think Alucious is a girl's name! And no one in their right mind would think Moonmist is a boy's name!**_

Cora continued ignoring him and started stroking Aluicious' back. It fell asleep, its head resting in her lap.

Bridgit searched far and wide for a cradillos that really stood out to her. She soon spied a cradillos running repeatedly into a tree.

"Wow! This one's really dumb." She shook her head in sadness.

However, an apple unexpectedly fell out of the walnut tree. The cradillos then began to devour it.

"Hey…it's smarter than it looks. Here boy!" Bridgit called out to it.

Surprisingly, it responded and sauntered up to her. Bridgit held out the pepper corns in the palm of her hand and the thing sucked it up like a vacuum cleaner.

"Man! You're hungry. I'm going to call you 4 o'Clock." She smiled and started to stroke his back.

"Uhhh…that doesn't make any sense." Neville, who was standing within earshot, said.

"Oh yeah? Well what did you name yours?" Bridgit gave him a scathing look.

Neville puffed out his chest. "I named him Chester!" He grinned.

"Ooooh…imaginative." Bridgit said sarcastically.

"I named mine Einstein!" Hermione and her cradillos popped out of nowhere.

"Breeee breeee!" Her cradillos added.

"They're perfect for each other." Bridgit muttered under her breath.

"I named mine Lucinda." Harry offered.

Cora approached.

"Not bad! I was expecting something stupid after I heard your bird's name." She patted him on the back.

"But…what's wrong with my bird's name?" Harry looked hurt.

"Nothing dear…" Cora continued patting him on the back. "Don't let him name the children." She whispered to Hermione, causing her to go red and Ron to look really angry.

"Well…I named mine better! I called him Scapegoat after Harry!" Ron stood up tall and squared his shoulders.

"That's surprisingly insightful of you, Ron!" Hermione smiled at him.

"Ahhh, it was nothin'" Ron blushed a bit.

"Hah! You saps are really going for this aren't you? Very well, I'll go to the horrendous effort of naming mine. I shall call you," Malfoy turned to his sickly looking cradillos, "Bottom." The cradillos looked sad.

"Duuuuh…I call you stick, after best friend!" They could hear replacement Crabbe's voice from behind a tree.

Their suspicion that he had actually named a stick instead was relieved when he came out led by his cradillos, which was dragging him by his shoelaces in order to get him to face the right direction.

"I named mine Darling!" Replacement Goyle hugged his cradillos, looking happier than he had in days.

The cradillos started biting him and whacked him with its tail.

"Ow! There's nothing like (ow!) the (ow!) unconditional love of (ow!) an animal companion. They (ow! Ow!) never judge you and (ow!) just love you for (ow!) you! …Hagrid, I'm bleeding!"

"Wow…yeh' mus' really be a dandy if it's attacking you."

"It has nothing to do with my sexuality, just my physical prowess!" Replacement Goyle broke out into tears.

"There, there." Said Bridgit in an attempt to comfort him.

"Maybe it's just naturally mean." Cora added. "You're actually really brave. You selflessly took the meanest cradillos in…order to spare us all!"

"I know you two are just trying to cheer me up, but it's okay. My selfless love and devotion will transform this beast into the smartest, prettiest cradillos of the flock! I'll teach it to trust and love again! Ow!" The cradillos bit him again, looking scared.

After spending the rest of the class with the cradillos, it was time to leave. Before they headed for civilization, Hagrid approached Bridgit and Cora.

'Would it be okay if I could hold one of yer dragons one las' time?" Hagrid looked like he would cry if they said no, so Bridgit offered him Tigerscry to hold.

Hagrid wept for joy, drowning small worms unfortunate enough to be within a three inch radius.

"You know…" Bridgit began. "They would only end up staying in our dorms and getting into trouble. I suppose if it wasn't too much of a burden, we could possibly let you babysit them everyday when we're in classes."

"D-do yeh really mean it?" Hagrid said in disbelief.

_**You're going to hand us over to that madman?**_ Moonmist growled.

"Shut up, Moonmist! Maybe he can learn you some manners!" Cora shoved Moonmist at Hagrid too.

Toucey and Drifter, knowing when they were beaten, also sulked up to their giant, hairy nanny. Trevor hopped off into the forest, grateful to have escaped with his life.

"Then it's settled!" Bridgit clapped her hands together. "See you guys after school! Is over! In the summer!"

"Hey, wait!" Tigerscry protested.

They then left for their transfiguration classes with Professor McGonagall.

Once they arrived, they found that they shared their class with the Hufflepuffs. Bridgit and Cora sat next to each other, Harry sat next to Ron and Hermione sat next to Violet.

"Welcome back." McGonagall smiled, quickly shoving a house point scoreboard into her desk drawer in an attempt not to look obsessive. "I trust you weren't hoping that this year would be easy for you, as I can safely say it will contain some very challenging things to learn."

Harry and Ron slumped down in their seats, slightly deflating at this news.

"To give you a refresher of last year, I want you to turn the teacups you will see in front of you into mice. However, in order to prepare you for what we will be learning first, I also want you to attempt to make the mouse become the size of a Quaffle."

"Darn those quazy quaffles." Bridgit muttered.

"Well, let's get crackin'." Cora stretched the kinks out of her arms.

Cora focused on her teacup and tapped it once with her finger. It then slowly changed into a mouse, bit by bit. After ten minutes, she had managed to get the mouse to be not only a mouse, but a quaffle sized mouse. Unfortunately, she had not been able to get rid of the floral patter that had been on the teacup.

Bridgit hadn't been able to get her mouse to transform completely either. Out of her mouse's back side was, instead of a tail, a ceramic handle. She tried to make it grow, but it only became as long as a quaffle, and looked like a mutated ferret.

"Whaaat? It's more convenient to pick it up this way!" She picked up the mouse by its handle, demonstrating while the mouse tried in vain to scurry away on its little feet, shrieking at the top of its lungs.

Hermione, per usual, made a perfect example of exactly what Professor McGonagall wanted.

"Why, Miss Granger, it even does my marking for me! Ten points for Gryffindor!"

Ron managed to create a mouse made of ceramic, but when he tried to make it get bigger, it instead imploded upon itself. Harry fared worse. He was able to make a large teacup with mouse legs, ears, whiskers and a tail. The teacup, unsure of what to do, scurried away as fast as it could. It managed not to break on the fall from the table, but as it charged into a mouse hole rather too small for it, it shattered to pieces.

"That's animal cruelty, that is." Ron chided Harry.

"It's not cruelty if it's not animal-shaped. Read it in the Magical Code of Ethics. Yours, on the other hand, likely had a soul by the time you killed it." Harry shot back.

"But mine couldn't move, so it wasn't technically alive like yours is…or shall I say was?" Ron made something up from the magical annuls of his brain.

Suddenly, everyone was distracted by a dark, looming shadow. They turned to look back at Neville's table.

"I can't make it stop!" Neville squeaked.

His mouse, which had actually turned out to look like a mouse with a teacup body, was growing at an alarming rate and beginning to rampage around the room as its head began to brush against the ceiling.

"Mr. Longbottom, stop this at once!" McGonagall shouted at him. "Oh, never mind. You can't, can you?"

She held up her wand and the mouse began to shrink and reverted back into a harmless teacup.

"Well, I suppose that is enough excitement for today. Your assignment is to read the first chapter from your book and write two feet on the importance of eye contact. You may have the last five minutes of class to begin your assignment."

Hermione whipped out her textbook and began to write feverishly on her parchment, having already read and notarized the book.

Everyone else figured five minutes wasn't long enough, so they just started talking to each other quietly so that they wouldn't be forced to start their work. As they were chatting, McGonagall collected all of the crimes against nature and placed them on her desk. Bridgit and Cora, out of curiosity, approached her.

"What can I do for you, ladies?" She asked them.

"Ummm…we were just wondering what you do with the mice after." Cora said.

"Oh. Well, we put them into a waste disposal unit where they are mixed with a potion that breaks down the spell so that they are converted back to their original form. The magic by-product slurry is then shipped to the Ministry of Magic to be used as colour-changing paint. We believe in the three R's." She smiled.

"Thank you!" Bridgit smiled, heading quickly back to her desk.

"That's weird." Cora whispered.

Class was then over.

"Quidditch tryouts!" Bridgit cheered.

Harry looked a little concerned.

"You guys are trying out for the Quidditch team?" He asked.

"Uhmmm…yeah. That would be why I was yelling about tryouts." Bridgit confirmed his belief.

"Why?" Cora gave him a look.

"N-nothing!" Harry grinned and backed away very quickly.

"Good. Shall we?" Cora turned to Bridgit.

"Let's!"

And they headed for the Quidditch pitch.

They all had lined up to tryout for their role as the keeper. Bridgit and Cora were now at the front of the line while some stupid little weiner kid was taking up their valuable time. He kept on missing the ball and, in an attempt to actually successfully block it for once, he kept on shouting.

"Mulligan!" In a horrible, cracking voice.

Finally, in irritation, Fred and George stopped doing their jobs as beaters and he got nailed in the head by both bludgers at the same time. He fell to the ground with a dull thud, blood everywhere.

"Quidditch is hard!" He said before expiring.

"Ooops…I think I'll need a mulligan on that one." Fred said cheekily.

Both laughed until Angelina glared at them angrily.

"Next up!" She called down.

House elves removed the remains from the field and dumped them into a waste receptacle marked 'Naptime Corner'.

Bridgit grabbed the broom roughly from where the stupid kid had died and kicked up into the keeper's net. Basically, the team was re-enacting a close approximation of a real game of Quidditch, so all of the players were in their positions and all of the balls were in play. However, there was an extra person purposely trying to score on the net. Bridgit gripped her broom handle and smiled. This would be easy! She blocked the first three shots perfectly, but then something distracted her attention. The golden snitch flew right in front of her face.

"Oooh! Shiny!" She exclaimed.

The snitch flew away.

"Hey! Come back!" She chased it.

"Wow. She's pretty good! You'd better watch out for your position, Harry!" Angelina nudged him in the ribs.

However, Bridgit then crashed into a wall.

"Then again…you're our star seeker." She changed her mind.

"Are you okay?" Sammy asked, running over to Bridgit.

"I think so…" Bridgit continued lying in the grass.

"Well, maybe just lay still for a bit." Sammy suggested.

"Good, it's my turn!" Cora wrenched the broom from Bridgit's grip.

"Go get 'em!" Bridgit weakly called after her, still lying dazed in the grass.

Cora grinned and took off up to the keeper's net.

"I'll show them how it's done!" Cora glared at the rest of the team.

She blocked the first quaffle from Bevilyn Wallflower who was trying to score on both the keeper's net and Fred Weasley. She swooped down to retrieve the ball and shot it at the net again. This happened several times, before Cora got cheesed off. That person wasn't playing by the rules. Finally, she got fed up.

"Stop cheating!" She yelled.

"What?" Bevilyn asked.

"Stop being so cheap! You're not even in range!" She snarled in frustration.

"Range?"

"Fine! If you won't come to me, I'll come to you!"

Cora then charged Bevilyn, who was only helping out today to get into Fred's pants, and kicked her in the face. She fell off and landed on the ground with a dull thud.

"Anyone else wanna try and cheat or shoot on my net?" Cora challenged the rest of her team.

"I've seen enough! If you want to play like that, then go join the Slytherins!" Angelina snapped.

"What? You guys wouldn't last ten seconds in street Quidditch! I say good day to you!" Super-pissed, Cora landed and thrust the broom into Sammy's ample chest.

"Oooof! Uhh…thanks."

"Stupid! They wouldn't know talent if it kicked them in the face!"

"Yeah…except this isn't street Quidditch." Sammy muttered as she headed to the goal.

Sammy did considerably better. She managed to block most of the shots, wasn't distracted by shiny things, and didn't fly into an uncontainable rage.

"You're not too bad, Sammy. I think we'll keep you for reserves." Angelina smiled. "You can be the seconder to Fudgey McMuffin in case he isn't able to play. We learned from all those other years when we didn't have extra players and everyone kept getting hurt. You'll still have to come to all the practices, but you'll only be playing if Fudgey can't."

"Sure. Sounds good!" Sammy smiled, having achieved her goal. ~Damn. That Fudgey must be really good. I thought I was a shoe-in.~


	6. Filler Chapter

**Chapter Six: Filler Chapter**

Cora furrowed her brow, viciously yet neatly chopping mandragora roots into thin slices.

"Stupid Angelina!" Chop! "Stupid Gryffindors!" Chop! "What's the point of a game where no one is on the offensive?" She turned to Bridgit, waving the knife in the air in a frighteningly dangerous hand gesture. "What was I supposed to do? Just sit there?"

"Ummm…I think that's the point of being the keeper. You sit there and block the quaffle from going in." Bridgit meekly offered.

"I know that, but where I come from-"

"Uhh… In Canada our rules are the same." Bridgit interrupted her friend. "That's why they call Quidditch an International Sport."

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant! Back on the streets from my childhood when we played Quidditch, it was for keeps! Even the spectators got involved and threw bottles or rocks at the opposing team. That was _real_ Quidditch! I mean, come on! Only one kid was bleeding by the end of it."

"He died. And I repeat the point about us needing to play by their rules." Bridgit reminded her friend.

"Maybe I should join the Slytherin team. Let's see how Angelina likes that!" Chop!

"Nooooo!" Neville's voice cried softly. "Don't join the dark side!"

"You know what? How about I chop for a while?" Bridgit grabbed the knife from her somewhat unstable friend. "Nothing personal, I just don't want to die."

"Hmpf! Fine." Cora huffed.

"Okay…so we put in the roots," Bridgit scarped them off the cutting board, "and then add the eyes, but what comes after that?"

"All that's left is the lizard tail and the mistletoe leaf. Just pick one." Cora gestured between the two.

"But…Professor Snape said that the wrong one would explode!" Bridgit didn't fancy the idea of that happening.

"Stop being such a pussie! I'll do it!" Cora grabbed the mistletoe and went for the cauldron.

"No no no!" Bridgit stopped her friend from dropping it in. "Don't be so rash! Just wait and the answer will come, I'm sure!"

Suddenly, Professor Snape, who had been eavesdropping on their previous conversation, made a raspy coughing noise that sounded remarkably like 'lizard tail'.

"Ummm…" Bridgit and Cora looked at each other in confusion. "Bless you sir." They offered.

"Shut up." Snape hissed at them, moving past their table to yell at Neville.

"Okay. Let's try the lizard tail." Cora grabbed it and dropped it in.

The potion started fizzing and exactly twelve seconds later Bridgit added the mistletoe leaf. The potion turned a clear green colour and Bridgit and Cora marveled at it.

"Wow…it turned out right. He really helped us out. Maybe he's not such a bad guy like everyone says." Bridgit mused.

They then heard an explosion from behind and Neville screamed.

"Mr. Longbottom! How many times have I told you, Lizard tail before mistletoe! L before M! Don't you know your alphabet?" Snape barked at him.

"I'm sorry, sir! But I never went to muggle preschool!" Neville wailed. "Grandma wouldn't teach it to me! She thought it would make me lippy!"

"Silence, Mr. Longbottom. You and Ms. Grainger fail today's class." Snape then swept to the front of the room.

"He's such a wretch, you only messed up because he was standing over your shoulder yelling at you." Hermione growled.

"I wonder why he was being so nice to us?" Bridgit narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Maybe he has reverse PMS!" Cora suggested.

"What?"

"No, no no! It's a real medical condition!"

Their further conversation was interrupted by Snape yelling, "Time's up!"

Everyone instantly stopped what they were doing.

"The mystery potion I had instructed you to make is a tongue-tying potion. It inhibits the neural pathways to the speech centre of the brain, compromising your language skills for around an hour." He grinned coldly. "To get full marks, you or your partner must drink some of the potion as I go by so that I may observe its effectiveness. Choose one."

"Okay…maybe he wasn't doing it because he was nice." Bridgit sighed.

"Let's flip a coin! Heads I win, tails you lose!" Cora suggested.

"That one's old! We're flipping a coin and you'll call your side when it's in the air." Bridgit saw through her friend's trick.

"All right. It's a deal." Bridgit flipped the coin. "Heads!" Cora shouted as it was in mid-air.

The coin spun and Bridgit caught it as it started descending and flipped it over onto the back of her hand. Her face paled.

"Heads." She moaned.

"Miss Firecatcher, Miss Willowstaff, I shall be starting with your table." Snape smiled evilly. "Which one of you will test the serum?" He asked, almost with glee.

"I will, sir." Bridgit said, her head downcast.

"Enjoy that sentence, Miss Firecatcher, it will be your last coherent one for quite some time." Snape's smile widened as he handed her a ladle and a small glass.

Bridgit ladled a bit of the serum into her glass.

"You're going to need much more than that!" He grabbed the ladle and filled the glass to the brim. Bridgit gave him an imploring look, as if to plead for mercy. "Bottoms up, Miss Firecatcher." He handed her the glass.

~I really hate you right now.~ Bridgit thought.

"Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape gave her a cold smile.

"How did you-"

"Just drink it, urchin!"

Wrinkling her nose at the less than appealing smell and the knowledge of what was really in the drink, Bridgit quickly tilted the glass back and chugged the elixer, which actually tasted like cherries covered in maple syrup, except that it burned on the way down. Bridgit spluttered and coughed.

"Man, that burns!" She said, only it came out, "Flicker dish monopoly!"

Everyone looked at her in confusion.

"Adequate, I suppose." Snape gave them a D+ for cheating and filed it on their permanent record before moving on to the next table.

"Mr. Longbottom, since you invariably ruined the potion you were brewing, you are going to be the one to taste it." Snape gave him a cold look.

Neville gulped and filled his glass full of the brown, smoldering liquid. He also gulped it down quickly, but then looked like he was going to be sick. He started coughing and tried to forget the horrid taste.

"So, Mr. Longbottom, how is the taste of failure? Although I'm sure you're quite used to it by now."

"Duckie." Neville replied sadly.

For a moment, Snape looked concerned. It seemed as though Neville had somehow succeeded in making the gibberish potion. His fears, however, were dispelled as Neville continued.

"Duckie duckie duckie duckie!" Neville pleaded.

"No, Mr. Longbottom, I will not take pity on you. You both receive a G." He then moved on to the next table.

"Duckie." Neville looked like he was going to cry.

"Unless your potion is the normal, emerald green, its effects will last four hours." Snape added.

A few people looked horrififed, Harry and Ron included. Well, just Ron. By the end of the sampling, more than half of the class was speaking gibberish. To add insult to injury, Snape began to ask bizarre questions to the class, mainly to the people affected by the potion.

"Mr. Weasley, what is the meaning of life?" He turned to Ron.

"Capricious waffle nosed butterdish." Ron replied, looking annoyed.

"Don't take that tone with me. Five points from Gryffindor. Miss Firecatcher, what was the name of the wizard who developed this potion?"

Bridgit groaned, knowing what was going to happen next.

"Fiddledee Bumblesmack Pennymuncher." Bridgit smacked her head on the desk, knowing how stupid her answer sounded.

Snape turned red in the face and the room went silent.

"That's…right." Hermione said in amazement.

Bridgit's eyes widened.

"Pizza monkey duck fish? Water mucous blindfolded hamperloonie!" She smiled, looking relieved.

"No speaking out of turn!" He growled at Hermione. "Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"He's just doing that because he lost." Cora whispered to Bridgit.

Bridgit nodded sagely, "Frog intestine of fly emu bowl."

"Yes, well, caporial modgepodge hegemony to you too." Cora muttered.

Snape, in a foul mood from losing, was mean and vindictive for the rest of the class. Thankfully, because Bridgit had gone first to test the potion and they had made it correctly, it was just starting to wear off. They headed out into the packed hallway, following Hermione, Harry, Ron and Neville to find their charms classroom. On the way, however, Cora's bookbag suddenly burst and all of her books tumbled out across the floor.

"Aww man!" She moaned, wondering why the thing should be so flimsy.

Slytherins walking by kicked her books along, spreading them out, and snickering maliciously. Hermione tried to turn back, but there was too strong a current in the halls.

"Are you guys okay?" She called back.

"Don't worry! You go on kelp, we'll find our way after raisins clean this up!" Bridgit shouted back still not completely in control of her words.

Hermione was forced to agree, as she couldn't work her way back through the press of bodies and she really didn't want to be late. She nodded and reluctantly continued on with the others.

"Man, what a flimsy bag." Cora growled, gathering up her books and punching one Slytherin, who had lagged behind and tried to kick her book, in the face.

It took ten minutes to round up all of the textbooks that had been strewn about. By the time this had been accomplished, the halls were virtually emptied and the next class had begun.

"Great, now where on magnitude is the charms room?" Bridgit sighed.

"Excuse me, are you two lost?" Bridgit and Cora almost jumped at the voice coming from directly behind them. They turned to behold some guy. He was dressed in a Ravenclaw uniform that was too small and he looked way too old to be a student.

"Ummm…yeah." Cora smiled. "We need to get to charms and we're not too sure where it is."

"Oh!" He smiled back, combing his fingers through his long, platinum blonde hair. "No problem. Charms is another class held outside near the forbidden forest like the care of magical creatures class."

"Really? Could you give us directions?" Bridgit asked.

"Sure, go out the front door, past Hagrid's cabin and walk until you're almost out of sight. Then take a left into the first, oh, I'd say about ten meters in the forest. You can't miss it; it'll be a gathering of a bunch of students around a fire pit sitting on large stones." He explained.

"Thanks so much!" The two thanked him.

"No problem." He smiled. "But now I've got to run to my class in muggle ass kissing. Good luck!" He waved at them as he turned to jog off

"I didn't know that was a class." Cora raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Eh. Everything's gone to hell since Dumbledore took over. Why, he even-"

"Okay, bye!" Bridgit yelled loudly, running off with Cora.

The two quickly ran through the stone corridors until they got to the main entrance.

"Poor guy. He must have failed a million times." Cora laughed.

They made their way outside and then broke into a sprint. They shot past Hagrid's cabin and didn't hear him as he called out a greeting to them. Just as they were almost out of sight from the cabin, they turned left and cautiously walked into the forest. At first, they didn't see anything in the dim gloom, but as they walked further in and their eyes adjusted, they could see the shapes of many bodies seated on Stones around an empty fire pit.

"Oh, good. We made it!" Cora sighed in relief.

"Yeah, I was dishwashing we wouldn't foshizzle it." Bridgit added.

Cora looked at Bridgit with a wry smile.

"Maybe don't talk until the potion completely wears off." She teased her friend.

"Yeah right!" Bridgit laughed at the thought of being silent.

They approached the gathering, walking in relief. They were certain that the teacher of the class wouldn't be as unreasonable as Snape and would quite likely be willing to accept their excuse for being late. When they were two meters from the gathering, they both started slowing down, having a bit of an uneasy feeling in their gut.

"Doesn't it seem kind of quiet for a class?" Cora asked nervously.

"I don't think pinkie are usually this quiet during fudgecicles." Bridgit looked around at the people nervously.

"And where's Harry and everybody?"

They then noticed consciously that every figure there had their faces hidden by robes.

"I don't think this is-"

Before Bridgit could finish her sentence, which would have included weird incomprehensible fragments anyway, every person in the small gathering suddenly unleashed the same spell from their wands in unison. Both were thrown violently backwards. Bridgit smashed into a tree and Cora flew very far back, sliding on the prickly forest floor as she landed, and then to a stop in a thorny bush. The group of people split into half, one pursuing and surrounding Bridgit and Cora each, ready to unleash a torrent of spells at them. Cora spat the dirt and thorns out of her mouth and narrowly dodged a spark of purple that was shot at her. Bridgit took longer to recover, having hit her head. As a shot of blue came at her, she scrambled out of the way, but didn't completely avoid it. It hit her leg, which froze and refused to work.

"Awww…Fashudmuffins!" She swore, although it didn't come out the way she had planned.

Cora dodged another spell and decided to try to disable as many of them as she could.

"_Araneum pedemopponere_!" She shouted.

Small wires shot out from where she stood and attached to whatever they hit. The result was a virtual maze of nearly invisible trip wires. Running from space to space, Cora tried to escape from her aggressors and reach Bridgit.

Bridgit decided that using a similar spell would be very prudent.

"_Araneum _kafudmuffins!" She shouted. Nothing happened and she fell over as she dodged another spell.

"_Araneum flos_!" A bouquet of flowers with spiders at the tops of the stems instead of blossoms appeared in her hand. "Argh! Stupid Snape!" Bridgit yelled in frustration.

In the bowels of the dungeon, Snape suddenly sneezed. He sniffed, wondering what had brought it on. "Ten points from Gryffindor." He excused himself.

Almost free of the trip wires, Cora got caught on one and landed flat on her face. She was hit by a bolt of orange and started laughing hysterically, unable to move.

"What….the hell…?" She gasped out between laughs. "_Teredrare_!" Her laugher ceased, she climbed to her feet and continued running.

"_Araneum _uranium!" Nothing happened.

"_Araneum _linear candlestick!" Nothing happened.

~Please work this time!~ Bridgit pleaded to whatever invisible and unholy deities she worshipped.

"_Araneum fragor_!"

Cora ducked as there was a flash of bright violet and then a cloud appeared in the sky right above the gathering. Cora quickly ran and pulled Bridgit and herself into the shelter of a boulder as their antagonists, who had previously been laughing at and taunting Bridgit's predicament, looked up in befuddlement. Suddenly, spiders started falling from the sky. As if that wasn't creepy enough, they exploded on contact, giving a painful but minor burn.

"Argh!" The people started running around, trying to avoid the exploding spiders falling from the sky.

A few wussier ones cowered off to the side, nursing their minor burns. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, Cora started to cast a spell. She pointed her hands into the center of the melee.

"_Fragor-_"

"_Crucio!_" Yelled a voice from behind, interrupting Cora.

Cora cried out, collapsed and started writhing in agony.

"Cora!" Bridgit crawled out from underneath the rock and then tackled the guy to the ground.

The rain of exploding spiders had stopped and as the first guy's concentration was now distracted by Bridgit, another took over casting and maintaining the unforgivable curse. The guy Bridgit was fighting whispered a spell and jabbed his wand into her chest, where it started burning. Bridgit screamed along with Cora.

"What's goin' on in here?" A rough voice yelled, sounding quite angry.

At the sound of this new voice, the group of people abandoned their endeavors and ran off quickly into the forest. Released from their torments, Bridgit and Cora lay on the ground, gasping heavily. The cavalry, aka Hagrid and his new Cerberus named Cuddley-Poo, ran up to the two.

"Are yeh okay?" He asked in concern.

Cuddley-Poo started ripping trees out of the ground and mauling whoever he could catch.

"How did you know we were in trouble?" Bridgit asked in confusion.

"Bridgit!"

_**Cora!**_

The two dragonettes scampered beside their companions in concern.

"Man, I'm glad we abandoned them at Hagrid's," Cora gasped out.

_**Cora, you idiot! What did you get yourself into now!**_ Moonmist snapped, more irate than usual.

"I would have thought that would be obvious, stupid." Cora weakly retorted.

_**You must be in bad shape if that's the best you can come up with.**_ Moonmist sighed.

"Wha' happened?" Hagrid asked.

"This guy was giving us directions out here to get to charms class, but it was all just a setup and we were ambushed." Bridgit explained.

"By who?"

"We don't know. They were disguised."

"I'll bet it was those Slytherins. They were too quiet today." Cora suspiciously muttered.

"Well, yeh're in rough shape. Best t'be gettin' yeh back to th' school." Hagrid shook his head. "To think this happened here, of all places and so early in the school year."

"What's the school year got to do with anything?" Bridgit and Cora yelled at the same time and then grimaced from the effects of yelling.

Half an hour later found them in the infirmary being tended to by Madame Pomfrey. Reagan and Sammy sat with them in bewilderment.

"I can understand this happening to Harry, but who would target you guys?" Reagan wondered.

"Shoot! We were even on patrol…I can't believe we didn't find you guys!" Sammy growled, obviously beating herself up. "But Reagan's right, who could possibly be that interested in you?"

"I don't know." Bridgit growled. "But if we ever find out." Her look deepened.

"We'll pay them back a tenfold." Cora looked murderous, and Bridgit appeared not very happy herself as they envisioned what they would do to their aggressors if they ever found them. They completely missed Sammy's burn in their angry musings.

* * *

In charms class, Harry suddenly flinched and gingerly touched his scar.

"What is it Harry?" Ron, ever the sidekick, asked his friend.

"I don't know…my scar started hurting."

Ron looked nervous. "That hasn't happened for a while. D'you suppose…You-Know-Who is maybe planning something?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, it can't be good."

Harry looked very serious.

Ron paled.

Hermione answered a question.

* * *

"It was the Slytherins!" McGonagall snapped.

"Oh, those children don't have the rocks to do something like that!" Madame Hooch muttered.

As she was only a minor character, she was promptly ignored.

"You should have been keeping an eye on them, Severus! We may have an international crisis on our hands now!" McGonagall started chewing out Snape.

"I was teaching at the time and I'm their house head, not their babysitter. Besides, they all have plausible alibis. For instance, young Mr. Malfoy was crocheting…and he made a damn fine hat!" Snape crammed a brightly-coloured yarn hat onto his head.

"It was the shoes, I tell you!" Professor Trlawney raved.

"Shoes can't cast the unforgivable curses!" Professor McGonagall glared at her.

"Ah yes, but these boots were made for walking and these slippers," she gestured at her feet, "will do the talking." She then passed out.

"Stupid, air-headed fake." McGonagall muttered.

"Sod off!" The slippers responded.

Everyone jumped in surprise, but then ignored them.

"Now, now," Dumbledore tried to calm everyone down. "We have no definitive proof in the matter. For now, we shall insist that students stick together as much as possible and stay away from secluded areas. Why must I always repeat myself? The Forbidden Forest is forbidden! You'd think the name would make it clear enough."

"Maybe we should change the name to the Study Forest. Everyone would avoid it then." Professor Trelawney's slippers said.

Everyone paused for a moment to think this over.

"No, because then we would lose Miss Grainger, and as we all know, she's the only one here with a future." McGonagall sighed.

"I would hardly consider it a loss." Snape gave her an ugly leer.

"Now, now, let's not get all riled up. We must put up an air of knowing confidence and set a good example for the children." Dumbledore said with a sense of finality. "Please return to your classes."

Everyone nodded and walked out, except for Professor Trelawney, who wasn't wearing her walking boots.

"Hey, wake up, stupid!" Her slippers urged her. "Hello? Hello? ….We're so lonely."

* * *

After being released from the infirmary, the four walked glumly down the hallway. Sensing the depressive mood that had settled upon the group, Bridgit decided that she would try to lighten things up.

"Man! Being caught off guard by that guy was such a BURN!" She pointed to her chest and laughed like an idiot. When no one started laughing, she began getting a little nervous. "You know? The burn? And it's a burn? And then it's funny and you laugh?"

"We get it! It's just not funny!" Sammy snapped. "You two have one simple mission, that's all! Not two, not three, just one. Yet you have both been doing a sub-standard job at it from the moment we got here. You've constantly shown a flagrant disregard for your responsibilities in this matter. From now on, you're not to leave the Potter kid's side no matter what! Do I make myself clear? And don't get yourself into stupid trouble over trivial matters that could jeopardize our mission! Do you understand?" She looked positively livid.

There was a long, silent pause.

"…But what if he has to go to the bathroom?" Bridgit nervously ventured, unclear as to whether the rules applied to this.

"ARGH! You are so immature! Don't you understand what's at stake here? It's times like these I wonder why you were selected for this mission!" She continued.

"I-I'm sorry….I just wanted to know." Bridgit' face felt hot and she fought to hold back tears. She hated to show any emotion like this, but coming from Sammy it just hurt that much more. She turned the other way and tried to pretend she was mad. "Well, you're a bum-head!" She sobbed.

Cora became very angry at her friend's crushed spirit.

"Way to go for morale, JACKASS!"

Sammy opened her mouth to speak.

"No! You're going to listen! You're the leader of this midnight berry picking expedition, so if we're not 'taking this seriously', it's because you're not doing your job properly!" The two glared at each other.

Sammy, with a definitive huff, spun around and walked off quickly.

"It's okay, Bridgit, the bum-head's gone!" Cora glared after her.

"We really let down the team, didn't we?" Bridgit turned to Reagan, "We didn't mean to! That guy tricked us and lied and said that charms was in the forest! How were we to know it wasn't?"

"Uhmmm…this is probably a bad time to mention it, but for future reference, the room numbers are right here under the class name on your schedules." Reagan pointed on her schedule page.

Bridgit burst out into tears and Reagan hugged her.

"I'm sorry! We really screwed up! I'm so sorry!"

"No, you guys did the best you could, it's not your fault. Just be more careful next time." Reagan comforted them.

"I doubt our fearless leader feels the same way." Cora said between gritted teeth.

"She's taking it harder than she let on. She's really beating herself up for not realizing you were in trouble when we were on patrol. You guys really scared her after being attacked. It's not your fault, you didn't plan for it to happen and didn't realize it until it was too late, but it frightened us. Actually, you two did very well considering how outnumbered you were. You did your best!" Reagan tried to set the healing in motion.

"It wasn't good enough." Cora growled.

"Don't worry! It will be okay. I'll go and talk to Sammy." Reagan then took off after her.

"Well…this sucks." Cora muttered.

"Don't worry," Bridgit wiped her eyes on her sleeve, "we've messed up, but let's leave that behind us and do our best. This is like that one summer in Mexico when…"

"Yeah, yeah! Let's just go find Harry. I don't have enough time to listen to you talk all day!"

Bridgit followed suit and they ran aimlessly through the hallways. As luck would have it, Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking for them, having noticed that they hadn't been in class, and were worried something bad had happened.

"There you are!" Hermione exclaimed. "We were so worried when we found out!"

"Found out?" Bridgit raised her eyebrow.

"Out about the ambush!"

"How the hell do you know about it? We just got out of the infirmary!" Cora stared in amazement at the girl who freakishly knew everything.

"You're not the only ones with sources, you know." Hermione smiled knowingly.

Bridgit and Cora looked at each other in confusion, having no knowledge of any such sources, but decided they would just shut up to prevent any further discussion on the subject.

"So you lot were really attacked by a bunch of hooded blokes? We thought she'd just gone mental!" Ron exclaimed. "It must be those darn Slytherins!"

"No…I think it was Snape." Harry growled. "Don't you think that toungue-tying potion was a little _too_ conveniently timed?"

"You always think it was Snape!" Ron sighed.

"And chances are I'll be right one of these days!" Harry grinned.

"For 'who boned your mom'…" Bridgit laughed quietly to herself.

"Wait a minute! I know what it was!" Hermione snapped her fingers as she realized the answer. "Harry, you said that your scar was hurting during charms, right?"

"Yes."

"And your scar only hurts when You-Know-Who is being evil, right?"

"I…really don't see where you're going with this…"

"Don't you get it? They were attacked by agents of the dark lord!" Hermione concluded.

"But we're just innocent exchange students!" Bridgit laughed nervously.

"Yeah, why would the dark lord want anything with us?" Cora added, trying to look above suspicion.

"I've got it!" Her eyes lit up. "He's trying to sabotage your mission of good will in order to cut down Britain's allies, should he decide to attack! By crickey! This is more serious than I thought."

~Crap!~ Bridgit thought. ~Voldemort knows about our mission and he's after us so that he can take out Harry after he's dealt with us!~

She could tell by the look on Cora's face, that they had both reached the same conclusion. They would have to be especially careful from now on.

"Well, what should we do about it?" Cora asked.

"Hmmm…according to what's worked for us in the past, we should definitely not tell the adults unless we're so deep in trouble we can't get ourselves out." Harry said. "And even then maybe not. Maybe only if they unintentionally find out."

"Good plan!" Ron smiled.

"And this has worked in the past and you're still alive?" Cora asked.

"Yup!" Hermione grinned.

"I see."

"We're doomed!" Bridgit whispered to her friend.

"Since you're in danger, the least we can do is stick near you for protection." Harry concluded. "I've had experience with fighting Voldemort," Ron and Hermione shuddered. "so your safety will be more safe if we contribute our help!"

"Uh…sure!" Cora pretended to be relieved. "We are in your …capable hands!"

In a tight-knit group, they headed back to the Gryffindor common room. Once there, Fred and George rushed up to the group, specifically to Bridgit and Cora.

"We heard what happened!" One of them exclaimed breathlessly.

"Are you blokes all right?" The other inquired.

"Yes." Bridgit smiled as Cora yelled,

"How the hell do they all know?"

"It's impossible to keep a secret in this school!"

"Especially because Professor Trelawny's slippers are such terrible gossips."

"Don't worry, we'll take the protection thing from here!" George waved dismissively at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who left to go do their homework. Bridgit and Cora apparently had no qualms with disregarding Sammy's orders less than five minutes after they were issed.

"Anyway, as far as we figure it, it was probably the Slytherins, so we have a prank to get them back!" Fred lowered his voice to a conspiratory level.

"But…they kind of seemed like adults." Bridgit objected.

"Even still, they probably knew about it." George accused them, not needing a real excuse to hate on the Slytherins.

"We figured you might want in on it, so we were wondering if you would like to come along!" Fred offered.

"Okay." Bridgit said without a second thought.

"Ah…sweet vengeance." Cora grinned wickedly, conveniently ignoring the fact it was misplaced.

"Excellent!" George rubbed his hands together.

"Enough of that! Let's get back to the vengeance. What are we gonna do?" Cora brought them back to the important topic.

"Right! Off we go! We'll tell you on the way there."

They emerged from the portrait hole and walked briskly down the hallways, cackling with glee.

* * *

In the Slytherin common room, a few students, including Malfoy, were lounging around after a hard day's being snotty.

"Man, those mudbloods sure have muddy blood." One of them commented out of boredom.

"Yes, not like OUR blood. Ours is made of iron. Stupid mudbloods and their lack of oxygen." Another responded.

"Ah, I can't tell you how refreshing it is to relax in my one hundred billion sickle chair from Wizard Expensive Ikea, Snob Outlet, after all that dirty work…done by servants of course. Our common room is so plush and expensive, full of the finer things in life and much better than anyone else's common rooms." Malfoy sighed in contentment.

"Yeah…too bad no one else can see it."

They all hung their heads.

"Hey, look! Punch!" Snobby McPeterson pointed to a corner of the room.

Cecil Patterdish perked up from his seat beside Snobby and looked around wildly.

"Where where?"

"Over HERE!" Snobby shouted as she punched him in the arm.

"OWWWWW! That hurt!" Cecil cried.

"Actually…there really is punch." Statey L'obvious pointed to a nearby table.

"How did that get there?" Bruce wondered aloud.

"Who cares?" Malfoy said, "Let's drink it all!"

They all converged on the potion and consumed it rather quickly. Upon drinking the last drop, the bowl suddenly began to speak.

"Greedy little bugger, this'll teach you to drink what doesn't belong to you!" The bowl then melted into jello.

"What was that all about?" Bruce wondered aloud.

"ARGH! My nose is itchy!" Statey reached to scratch her nose just as everyone else realized….

"Oh no! Our nose hair is growing!" Snobby wailed.

"Quick! Where's a pair of magical scissors? We need to cut it off!" Malfoy fumbled for a pair of scissors. "Here we are!" He reached up to his nose, which had a pair of twin ropes descending quickly to the floor as the hair continued to grow.

He snipped at the hair and the blades of the scissors broke.

"Great. Now what are we going to do?" Cecil wondered aloud.

"Our aloof and upper-class images will be ruined! We look like commoners!"

"How many commoners do you know who look like this?" Statey screeched. "We're freaks!"

"Stop it! There must be a way to fix this! What does everyone know?" Malfoy asked the assembled group.

"My servant does all the learning!" Statey whined, "This is too hard!"

"Whoever did this….DAMN YOUUUUU!" Malfoy raised his fist to the sky and shook it angrily.

* * *

Running back from the secret passageway, Fred, George, Bridgit and Cora cackled evilly.

"They're going to need more than magic scissors to cut that hair!" George grinned.

"You know, considering what they did to us, isn't this kind of pathetic revenge?" Cora posed the question that resulted from her own sudden thought.

"Well, we don't really know for sure that they did it." George reminded her.

"Then what was the point of doing this at all?" Cora huffed.

"Because it was funny!" Bridgit giggled.

"That's the spirit!" Fred slapped her on the back.

"Ow! Too much chummy in that slap!" Bridgit coughed.

The four emerged from behind a secret tapestry and turned the corner only to bump into…

"Hello Professor Snape!" George quickly covered up his surprise.

Snape glared down at them, raising an eyebrow.

"We were just out for a turn about the corridors!" Fred added.

"So it would seem." He said in a flat voice.

"Erm….you look very…the same as always tonight!" Bridgit tried to honestly compliment his attire and failed miserably.

Snape didn't even dignify that with a response. Instead, he went on the offensive.

"What are you four doing out in the corridors at this hour? Didn't I give you two enough potions homework?" Snape glared at Bridgit and Cora.

"But you didn't give us any homework!" Cora protested.

There was an awkward pause.

"…Well, OBVIOUSLY you weren't paying attention!" He shot back. "And I am quite suspicious that you are roaming these hallowed halls for a prank. It could just be my keen intuition, or the fact that you are currently keeping company with the Weasely twins."

Fred and George gulped.

"Don't know what you're talking about, professor!" George gestured grandly to illustrate his innocence.

"I think perhaps a couple months' worth of detention in Filch's dungeon might persuade you to tell me what you four are really up to." Snape folded his arms across his chest and glared menacingly at them.

"Filch has a dungeon?" Bridgit asked.

"Yes. It's several leagues below mine and constantly requires free labour to feed the rats, dust the cobwebs and scrape the mildew. It contains horrors that even I cannot imagine."

There was another strained silence.

Sammy suddenly ran up to the now-formed group of five.

"Have you found her yet?" She asked breathlessly.

"Found who?" Snape turned around, just missing the equally confused expressions on everyone else's faces.

"Philimustrious Armantrada! Did you find her?" Sammy continued.

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded. "What's going on?"

"There isn't much time! Philimustrius is my cousin who was visiting me on her last day on vacation in England when some random kid called her a fat mud bucket. They didn't know it, but Phil has an immense fear of buckets…and mud. So, she ran off screaming and fell down several flights of stairs and they shifted and she rolled off and now we don't know where she is! It's horrible! I think she's critically wounded and she hasn't taken her medication yet…for her fear of mud…and uhhh…she's all alone!" Sammy quickly spilled out a ridiculous story.

"I hardly believe that-"

"If my cousin dies, I will hold you, sir, personally responsible!"

"But I don't think-"

"Hurry everyone! We must make haste and find her before it is too late!" Sammy cried and quickly dragged Cora by the sleeve. Everyone else waited behind and there was a long pause.

"Well? What are you waiting for! Get looking!" Snape suddenly broke the silence.

As the three quickly sprinted off, Bridgit smiled. The way she figured it, Cora and Sammy were well over-due for some serious bonding time. As soon as they were out of ear and eye shot, Fred and George stopped and asked the question that was weighing upon their minds.

"What was that all about?" George asked.

"Well, Sammy doesn't have a cousin." Bridgit began.

"Really?" Fred interrupted, his voice laden with sarcasm.

"So I think this was her way of apologizing for getting really mad at Cora and I for being attacked by the hooded people. Usually she wouldn't have saved us from something that was so obviously our fault. That's why she sucked at it…she doesn't have much experience."

"Well, at any rate, we owe her one!" Fred sighed in relief. "We'll have to invite her along for a pranking later on!"

"Nah! She's actually more of a stick in the mud, play by the rules kind of person." Bridgit shook her head.

"Too bad. She seemed weird enough that we'd actually get along." George grinned.

"So what exactly are you doing lurking around the hallways?" Cora asked as she walked with Sammy down said hallways.

"I was looking for an ice cream vendor. I wanted a cool treat after my hot eats." Sammy said lamely.

Cora looked at her suspiciously.

"Were you really looking for us because we weren't in the common room, so you thought that we had run off in sadness after you were so mean to us?" Cora gave her a look.

"Uhhh…nope!" Sammy said quickly, as she had been right.

"Good! Because we're not that pathetic!"

"Well, obviously I'll have to work harder at keeping my eye on you two because you seem to have a knack for getting into trouble. I suppose I should have figured it out sooner. Don't worry, now that I know you're both so hopeless, I'll just have to work harder!" Sammy patted her on the head.

"Agh!" Cora batted her hand away. "Don't patronize me!"

"Try and stop me!" Sammy responded.

"Maybe I will!" Cora kicked her.

The two erupted in a brawl in their almost sibling-ish apology/apology accepted ritual.

* * *

In the Griffindor common room, Reagan looked at his watch, which had just started beeping.

"Ah, everyone should be back together again now." He smiled.

"What? How do you know that?" Hermione asked from some random location.

"You're not the only one who has sources, you know." Reagan joked, thinking it was obvious that he had just known them for a long time.

"How did you know about my secret sources?" Hermione looked horrified.

"Umm…I was just kidding…" Reagan looked concerned.

"Of…course. So was I! Heh heh!" Hermione laughed nervously and quickly backed out of the room.

* * *

The next day at the beginning of potions, Snape quickly walked up to Bridgit and Cora's table and leaned down to speak with them in a confidential tone.

"Did you find her?" He asked.

"Find who?" Bridgit responded.

"Philimustrius!" He provided them with a name.

"Oh! Her. Well…she was actually a bogart. You see, Sammy's greatest fear was of Phil dying! So we were a little upset when we found out we were just chasing a silly old bogart!" Cora worsened the lie instinctively.

"Confoundit! I can't tell you how many times I've asked Filch to get rid of those things! He's going to get a nasty memorandum from me!" He then swept to the front of the room to begin the day's lesson.

"Duckie!" Neville hiccoughed.

"Now, before I begin imparting to you my illustrious wisdom, I ask that everyone please present me with yesterday's homework assignment." He folded his arms neatly across his chest.

"You didn't…assign any." Hermione ventured.

"Well, it would seem that no one from Gryffindor pays attention."

"But the Slytherins aren't handing in anything either!" Harry protested.

"They were excused after the house snake died tragically." He raised an eyebrow.

All the Slytherins wore bags over their heads, clearly the result of Fred and George's return to the common room to refill the punchbowl later that evening.

"Keep up with the times, guys. Bridgit and I got our work done!" Cora held up two rolls of parchment.

Snape, as a silent wraith, suddenly appeared next to their tables.

"I'll take that." He unrolled them.

Bridgit' roll contained a rather poor rendition of Snape biting a head off of a bat. Cora's contained some drivel about how she loved potions, with a final paragraph about honeydew.

"Yes, everything seems to be in order. The rest of the Gryffindors fail on the assignment to produce conclusive evidence that I am the greatest thing since sliced bread." He then glided back to the blackboard to begin the days lecture.


	7. The Roar of the Linamentum Praedatorius

**Chapter Seven: The Roar of the Linamentum Praedatorius**

In a strangely non-eventful manner, gobs of time passed, so we won't bore you with the details. Needless to say, they went to classes, did some homework and had to hang out with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Now halfway through October, the school was abuzz with the prospect of the upcoming Halloween ball. However, despite this joyous mood, a small portion of the Gryffindor table was in low spirits. In addition to being outcast and treated like freaks by a large portion of the student body, they were now being forced to listen to Sammy as she bemoaned her so-called rival.

"God, I hate that Fudgey McMuffin! He's such a douche bag!" Sammy steamed.

"I don't know…I kind of like Fudgey. He's sweet, but not too sweet." Reagan smiled.

"What are you talking about? He's stupid!" Sammy continued.

"No, he's very…sweet." Reagan smiled.

"Did you hear his answer in class? Seventy-two? What kind of answer is that?"

"Well, if you look at it from an existentialist point of view it's actually rather witty!" Reagan chuckled.

"He didn't mean it that way! He's just stupid!" Sammy ran her fingers through her hair roughly.

"Why do you always assume the worst about people? I mean, I would probably not be too keen to know what you think of me." Reagan sighed. "I'd probably get a long list of faults."

"Well…no, but you're diff….I…uhhh….Look, the thing is that I-"

"Look!" Sammy visibly deflated at being interrupted and lost her confession momentum. "Ha ha ha! Chewie's eating food off of the Hufflepuff table and the weenies are too scared to do anything about it!" Cora laughed.

"Well, give them some credit! Chewie does have sharp teeth." Bridgit said sarcastically.

"Hey! It's time we get to class!" Hermione suddenly bustled into the conversation. By now, they were beyond used to it.

"Thanks Hermione!" Bridgit said distractedly. "Oh! You should probably go wash your face in cold water. I heard closed pores prevent knowledge from leaking out."

"By golly, that makes so much sense! Right! I'll meet you there!" She then ran off hurriedly to the ladies' room.

"Gets easier every time." Bridgit giggled.

"Well, we should go anyway." Sammy looked at her watch.

"Oh thanks! You made me waste the pores excuse!" Bridgit bemoaned her creative loss.

"That's okay. It's my turn to think of an excuse next. Give your brain a rest, goodness knows it needs it from all that thinking." Cora punched her friend lightly.

"Friend!" Bridgit said in a Frankenstein's monster voice.

"See you guys!" Reagan waved as they parted ways.

"Whoooooo! I like peaches!" Bridgit spun around in circles with her finger on her nose.

"That's…great. But we have to go to Care of Magical Creatures now." Cora smiled in concern.

"Is she always like this?" Harry whispered to her.

"You idiot! You've seen her! OF COURSE she's always like this!"

"Oy…is she always this mean?" Ron whisperingly asked of Bridgit.

"Hmmmmm…yep!" She smiled brightly. "But I forgive her because she gives me stuff!"

"Hey!" Cora looked affronted.

"Oh, come on! You know I was kidding. You never give me stuff." Bridgit giggled.

"Damn straight!" Cora folded her arms with fierce pride. "Now come on, ladies! Onwards!"

"B-but we're not-" Harry began, but Ron clamped his hand on Harry's mouth.

Everyone followed, not speaking a word, obviously in agreement that Harry was a woman. Finally, after a lengthy uncomfortable silence, they arrived at Hagrid's cabin.

"A'righ' everyone, today we'll begin the trainin' of your cradillos, bu' firs' yeh'd best be lookin' after their daily needs." He shook a small pouch of peppercorns, and then several snow shovels and garbage bags to take care of their freakish droppings. "Everythin' yeh need's in the shed ou' back."

"Is it just me, or is he leaving out more consonants as time goes on?" Cora wondered aloud.

"'e' 'a' 'o' 'o'e 'a' 'o'a'y." Hagrid said in response with fierce pride.

With nothing to say in the face of this perfectly logical statement, the five shrugged and went about their business.

A few moments later, Cora sat in the field bathing her cradillos in a steel wash bin full of frothy, flesh-coloured bubbles.

"There you go, Aluicious! You'll be nice and clean!" Cora cooed, scrubbing her cradillos with a washcloth.

"Breee! Breee!" Aluicious sounded, eating some bubbles.

_**It's so stupid! It can't even talk right! I'll bet it has the intelligence of a flea!**_ Moonmist snapped, perched on Cora's shoulder.

"What's the matter with you? What do you have against my precious Aluicious?" Cora looked warily at her pet.

_**"Aluicious this"…"Aluicious that"…"I have a crush on Harry!" Why don't you play with ME anymore?**_ Moonmist snapped.

"I don't have a crush on Harry!" Cora screamed.

"What?" Harry looked up.

"Nothing." Cora growled.

_**She's got it for you bad.**_ Moonmist grinned.

Cora threw him in the wash bin.

"Moonmist is being a pill because he's jealous of Aluicious. Just ignore whatever he says right now." Cora offered an explanation.

"Oh…okay." Harry tried to force a smile. _Damn! I'm just too sexy. I've got to tone it down a bit or even more weirdos will be flocking to me._

"Hmmm…" Hermione looked pensive.

_**I'm not jealous! I'm just wet! Why would I be jealous of that thing?**_ Moonmist clambered up to perch on the side of the bin.

"Breee!" Aluicious kissed Moonmist on the top of his head.

_**Did you see that? It just tried to eat me!**_ Moonmist flew hysterically back onto Cora's shoulder.

"She didn't! She loves you!" Cora looked at her dragonette, all starry-eyed. "She thinks you're her daddy!"

_**As if I'd ever father anything that ugly**_**.** Moonmist retorted, however not sounding nearly so angry.

"Awwww…I think you love her too. Do you want to help me wash behind her ears?" Cora offered, scratching under Moonmist's chin.

_**No.**_ Moonmist said sulkily. _**But I'll go get another towel. Not because I like her or anything…but just because I feel like it…**_

* * *

"Okay, 4 o'clock! You see the ball? See it? You see it? Okay, ready?" Bridgit held up a ball as 4 o'clock crouched back on his haunches.

"Go get it!" Bridgit chucked the ball.

4 o'clock, contrary to his awkward appearance, ran with incredible speed, but had to wait until the ball landed because he did not have much in the way of jumping abilities. Still, he brought the ball back, seeming proud.

"Breee!" It looked happy.

"Well, I'll bet you want something more challenging, so here's this Rubik's cube!" Bridgit handed it the puzzle.

As she bent down, 4 o'clock suddenly scrambled up Bridgit's arm and snatched the bag of peppercorns from where Bridgit had been keeping them in her hair. Satisfied, 4 o'clock started to munch away.

"Wow! You're really smart, 4 o'clock." Bridgit marveled.

"Wouldn't take much to outsmart you, ummm…are you a mudblood?" A passing Malfoy asked.

"Ummmm, no, but not like there's anything wrong with that."

"Oh. Well…ummmm…ummmmm…oh yeah! Savage!" He said proudly, and then walked off to find Bottom.

"That boy has got to stop being so prissy." Bridgit sighed. "Well, 4 'oclock, I guess it's me and you- holy cow!"

Bridgit stared in amazement at the Rubik's cube, which had been solved.

"Did you do that?" She asked, looking for 4 o'clock.

She saw her cradillos a few metres away in the field with Chewie. 4 o'clock batted the ball away and Chewie yapped in delight and tore off after it.

"Whoa." Bridgit breathed. "He taught Chewie to play catch too! Is there anything these things can't do?"

"Hey, yours is pretty smart, teaching Chewie a trick and all. Maybe you should think about entering him in the smart contest." Neville said, coming up behind her.

"The what?" Bridgit looked at him in confusion.

"It's a contest Hermione came up with to see whose cradillos is the smartest." Neville explained.

"Well, I don't think so. There's more than one way to measure intelligence and I doubt whatever she picked is best. Besides, 4 o'clock is having fun playing with the dog. Are you going to enter yours?" Bridgit asked.

"Well, I don't want Chester to feel the shame of failure." Neville looked a little downcast.

"Ah, don't worry about it! See? Now Chester is playing catch with them too!"

Neville sniffed, getting all emotional. "He has friends!"

"Uhh…quite." Bridgit said, going to sit on the other side of the field.

"Come on, Einstein! Remember your training. I mean, it's Replacement Crabbe, for crying out loud! He wasn't even good enough to BE Crabbe! You can squash him like a bug! SQUASH HIM LIKE A BUG!" She screamed.

"Uhhh, Hermione, you're scaring us." Ron whimpered.

"GET USED TO IT BECAUSE YOU'RE GOING DOWN TOO!" Hermione roared.

Einstein, who hadn't stopped making noises since the beginning of the chess match, suddenly started crawling forwards.

"Yes! That's it, baby!" Hermione perked up.

Einstein picked up a chess piece in his mouth and started eating it. It was the pawn in front of the king to a diagonal.

"Look how confident he is! He doesn't even think he needs extra pieces to win against your stupid Stick." Hermione grinned triumphantly.

"Stick pretty." Replacement Crabbe drooled.

Spurred on by this show of sentience, Stick lunged forward and picked up a bishop in her mouth.

"Ha! Stupid bugger picked up one of the best pieces in the game! No doubt to eat it." Hermione crowed.

However, Stick then placed the bishop on the diagonal, putting Einstein's king into checkmate. Hermione looked stunned.

"How could you forget what I taught you?" She turned to Einstein. "Oh well, come on. I'll go feed you because you're at least good at eating."

Einstein swallowed the pawn and burped.

"Well, I'm glad her crazy hockey mom stage is over." Harry sighed.

Suddenly, Replacement Goyle came tearing through the bushes screaming at the top of his lungs. Plunging into another copse of bushes, he was pursued quickly by Darling, who was adorned with pretty pink ribbons and ready to rip his head off.

"But you look so glamorous, Darling! And I haven't even finished giving you the poodle 'do!" He screamed.

* * *

Malfoy, sitting and watching Bottom eat grass only to vomit it up thirty seconds later, was quickly losing his patience with this waste of his time.

"Well, you stupid rotter, it seems that I won't need to take care of you for too much longer. And at the same time I'll be able to avenge myself on those two savages and possibly even get Hagrid kicked out. I suppose I do owe Grainger something. After all, she inspired me to actually do some research on this." Malfoy smiled evilly at his blissfully unaware cradillos. "Hmmm…be complacent while you can."

He pulled out from his flowing black robes something shaped almost like a conch shell, only with many more twists and turns in it.

"Let's see how you lot like this!"

He put the shell to his lips and blew. An ear-splitting cry rang through the clearing. All of the cradillos looked up from what they were doing and then all hell broke loose.

The cradillos all abruptly perked up their heads and the wool on their backs began to straighten and stand on end. Their pupils contracted in a primeval fear response and they began to speak. Not their usual cheerful call, but a frightened and angry reptilian hiss. As a second call blasted out, they all leapt to their feet and scurried all higgledy-piggledy in hysterics, attacking or running over anyone who got in the way of their search for cover. However, the slightest sound caused them to panic and run around more.

"What's going on?" Replacement Goyle screamed, "Darling is much more agitated than usual!"

Said cradillos was foaming at the mouth, madly gnawing on Replacement Goyle's leg, eyes looking wildly in different directions.

"'I'. E'e'o'e 'a'e 'o'e!" Hagrid yelled to all of his students.

"Hagrid! Your accent has hit critical mass! We can't understand you anymore!" Hermione yelled.

People were running around screaming in mass panic. Obscured in his hiding place, a bush, Malfoy, "tee hee" ing evilly, held onto his sides to keep them from splitting. It had happened once before and he was not keen to revisit it. However, he was then promptly attacked by Bottom, who wanted the hiding spot.

"What are you doing, you little- AHHHHHH!" Malfoy screamed as Bottom hit him in the face with his spikey tail. "Not the face!"

Malfoy fell backwards onto the conch shell, shattering it in the process. He whipped out his wand.

"_Interior parstis fragoris_!" A jet of black lightining whipped out and smashed against Bottom.

Bottom's wool suddenly swelled a bit and he got puffier, but aside from that, nothing happened.

"What? No! Why?" Malfoy the uneducated screamed as his cradillos kicked the living snot out of him.

"Crap! We can't use spells against them because they absorb magic!" Bridgit grimaced at this bleak realization.

"Well, it's that screaming sound that's made them upset, so-" Cora raised her hands to cast a spell.

"Are you deaf? We can't use magic against them!" Bridgit growled.

"Well…I'm about to be!" Cora smiled at her own poor joke.

"What?" Bridgit didn't get it, so she fell back on her comfort state of mind. "Friend" she drooled.

"_Silentium_!"

A big blue bubble suddenly sprouted from the end of her hand and enveloped a few cradillos who happened to be nearby. Cora turned to Moonmist.

"Moonmist," Cora said in an uncharacteristically commanding tone, "I need you to stay in the bubble and keep the cradillos there, or else they'll get loose and spooked again. There's no sound in the bubble, so you'll have to use telepathy."

…_**That's the only way I can talk**_**.** Moonmist reminded her.

"Right. So, just make soothing noises so they stay."

_**Roger.**_ Moonmist attended to his duty without question.

"Wow…when the going gets tough, you two stop acting like an old married couple." Bridgit raised her eyebrows. "It's nice to see you can be serious."

"Yeah…hey! Look, we don't have time for semantics!" Cora snapped.

"I'm not quite sure that was used in the proper context…"

"Shut up dictionary girl!" Bridgit put away her dictionary in shame. "We have more important things to do than semantics!"

Bridgit shook her head, but held her tongue. They both suddenly turned as Hagrid yelled,

"Bear hug of paralyzing love!" He scooped up five cradillos and began coddling them. "I've go' these five, yeh take care o' the rest." Hagrid called out to them.

"Right! Thanks for your contribution…" Cora muttered, looking at the twenty or so other rampaging animals.

"We must find a way to…placate them." Bridgit said.

"What the- put away your thesaurus! It's not the time for that one either!"

"Awww…" Bridgit looked downcast.

"Look, they absorb magic, right? So we need to use indirect spells and-" Hermione, who was trying to explain the strategy to Replacement Crabbe, realized who she was talking to. "I'm sorry, sometimes I talk to people and don't care who to. You guys!" Hermione turned to Bridgit and Cora.

"Way ahead of you!" Cora called back. "Go round up other students to help!"

"Right!" Hermione left to go do so.

"Okay!" Bridgit grinned, jogging through the very large pen.

They came upon a group of cradillos attacking some random students to the point where they cowered up in a tree for safety.

"You guys! Use indirect magic!" Cora yelled to them.

"AHHHHHH! We're going to die!" One of them screamed.

"Never mind." Cora sighed.

"No! Indirect magic! Like this!" Bridgit responded. "_Vitis laqueus_!"

Vines sprouted from the ground and wrapped gently, but restrainingly, around the rampaging cradillos, holding them firmly in place and rendering them immobile.

"Whoa! Good idea! Let's go find more panicked-to-the-state-of-stupid people to save!" Cora clapped her hands together. "Then they'll _have_ to accept us!"

"Wait a minute!" Bridgit had a sudden, nasty realization, "Where's Harry?"

They looked in horror at each other.

"Oh no! If he gets killed by a bunch of rampaging sheep monsters, Sammy'll boil us alive!" Cora groaned.

"Bloody hell!" They heard being yelled from afar.

They looked at each other again.

"Ron!" They exclaimed at the same time.

"Where he is…"

"…Harry will be!"

They ran towards where they figured the sound had come from, but were having little success finding them until Bridgit decided it might be prudent to yell at them to get them to respond.

"Harry! Ron! Where are you?" She called at the top of her lungs.

"We're here!" Came a muffled, but none too happy-sounding reply.

"They sound like they're in trouble!" Cora noted tensely.

Breaking through into a clearing surrounded by lofty trees, because there are trees in the pen because the pen is so big, they beheld a pulsating mass of cradillos.

"You don't suppose…"

"Help!" Came two muffled voices from within the pile, affirming Cora's horrible suspicion.

"There's so many of them and in a concentrated area. What could have caused them to single out Harry and Ron out of all the other unimportant people?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"Must be karma." Cora snickered.

"We should probably help them now."

"To action!" Cora held up her arms. "_Vitis laqueus_!"

More vines sprang from the ground and managed to snag and hold a few of the cradillos, but the swarm was too large and pulsating to get a good grip on most of them.

"It's not working! This will take too long." Cora growled.

"What should we do? I'm fresh out of ideas after my last Hermione excuse."

"Well…where brain fails, we turn to the superior brawn." Cora flexed her arm. "I'll toss them out, you keep them from coming back."

She then entered the melee and grabbed a cradillos by the tail and tried to pull it, but it was too heavy to move. Frustrated, Cora grabbed the squirming creature around the middle and hefted it up. She leaned backwards with the effort, as it was quite heavy.

"No, no!" Bridgit called from the sidelines. "You have to lift with your _legs_ not your back!"

"Shut up!" Cora yelled, grunting as she threw the cradillos beyond the clearing.

The cradillos' fall was cushioned by its fluffy wool. It then promptly turned around and tried to charge back into the clearing. Bridgit stood before it, crouching a bit, with her arms ready to grab it.

"You're not going anywhere." She grinned.

The cradillos ran directly into her, knocking the wind from her lungs and ran over her to get back into the pile.

"Okay…" she gasped. "Plan B." She recovered her voice. "Cora I need a plan B!"

"I'm a little busy right now! If it's not working, then let's get Harry and Ron out of the pile! Get in here and help me out."

"Right."

Bridgit dove into the pile, very uncomfortable by the pushing and pulling going on around her, not to mention the crushing. She held her breath and pushed her way further in, squirming to try and reach Harry. Her success was rewarded when a head of messy black hair came into view. Without a second thought, she reached out and grabbed it. Pulling him by the hair a little ways, she popped her head out the top of the pile.

"I found him! Get over here! I can't exactly pull him out by his hair!"

Cora, with great difficulty, waded through to where Bridgit was as Bridgit struggled to keep a grip on Harry's hair.

"Owwww!" Harry screamed.

"Don't worry! We're going to save you!" Cora answered.

"Let go of my hair."

"No dice." Bridgit scowled.

They pushed themselves further into the middle of the pile and managed to find his arms (attached to his body, naturally). Taking one a piece, they fought their way back out through the swarm, being stepped on, bitten and gouged. Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, they broke free of the mass and could smell the fresh air. Exhausted, they all collapsed to the ground.

"Mission….accomplished." Bridgit panted.

"Your hair's standing up." Cora giggled.

"Oh yeah." Bridgit laughed.

They gave each other a high five, but received a nasty static shock in the process. Harry sat up, his hair all mussed up and his glasses crooked on his face, and pointed a bloody hand to the pile.

"What about Ron?" He asked.

Bridgit and Cora looked at each other.

"Oh yeah…him." Cora sighed.

Bridgit turned to Cora. "Shall we?"

"Yes. Let's."

The three of them dove back into the pile, mercilessly shoving their way to the centre, where Ron was. Getting a firm grasp, they tried to excavate Ron from his cradillos tomb, but to no avail.

"They keep swarming him!" Cora growled.

"But why?" Bridgit wondered.

"What should we do?" Harry asked in alarm.

He then received a very nasty shock.

"Ow! I hate wool! I always got those stupid wool sweater hand-me-downs from my aunt and uncle and they're itchy and they have terrible static and stick to all of my undershirts and they smell bad and-" Harry continued on his tirade, ignored by Bridgit as she suddenly had an epiphany.

"Cora! I know what to do!" She exclaimed.

"Great Odin's ravens protect us all." Cora uttered in horror.

"Oh, you're such a drama queen! You two protect Ron, I'll be right back." She then struggled out of the pile.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Cora called after her to no avail.

She stood for a moment. "Well…what else are we gonna do?" She sighed.

"-and they were horrible colours like orange and pea-green and mauve and shiny…" Harry continued, obviously releasing pent-up rage.

Free from the cradillos, Bridgit spoke.

"_Linamentum fustis_!"

Blue electricity hit several trees, turning them an odd shade of yellow. Bridgit grinned.

"I never thought I'd be saying this, but thank you Harry!"

"For what?" Harry asked from the agglomeration of animals.

"For giving her the idea…you know…like a muse."

"I amuse her? Damn, now you both have a fancy for me." Harry sighed. "I'm just hot stuff."

The cradillos closest to the trees were picked up by an unseen force and were then stuck against the trunks.

"Get the cradillos close to the trees!" Bridgit yelled, shoving one forwards so that it was sucked towards the tree.

"Right!" The other two acknowledged.

The cradillos were determined to stay where they were, but, pushing with all their might, they managed to force a few towards the trees. The rest continued killing Ron.

"It's not enough! We're too weak!" Harry wailed.

"I guess we need a little fire-power. God, you're useful today!" Cora grinned, cashing in on her muse.

From her belt, she removed a small phial containing a dark purple liquid.

"This is the last one." She muttered. "I've gotta steal some more…but Snape wouldn't have any because he doesn't value physical fitness."

She tossed her head back and gulped the potion down in one shot. Her muscles swelled and increased in size as she started to glow. She grinned.

"It's hero time!"

Bridgit sighed at Cora's poor battle chant. Cora, now super buff and glowing, picked up the nearest cradillos and tossed it with considerably less effort towards the trees. Running through the pile, she picked up the rest of the strays, who were now held fast to the trees.

"I don't understand…" Harry stared at Cora in bewilderment.

"It's a hero potion! It increases my speed and strength…and I glow!" Cora smiled. "Although, it's killer on clothes, so that's why mine are stretchy!"

"Why didn't you use one earlier when you were being attacked in the forest?" Harry asked.

"The potion makes the user extremely altruistic, which creates the tendency of self-endangerment when others are around. So, the potion must be used strategically, where self-sacrifice will not result in death. They're damn useful, though." Cora sighed.

"You should have taken yours like I took mine!" Bridgit smiled.

"I wouldn't consider going out to get a pizza heroic." Cora muttered.

"It was when there were thirty pizzas!" Bridgit giggled.

"Ron!" Harry turned to his fallen comrade.

"Bloody hell." Ron groaned.

He was in sorry shape. He was all bloodied and bruised, with a broken leg to boot.

"I guess it's another trip to the infirmary." Cora sighed.

"Yay! It's chocolate Tuesday!" Bridgit cheered.

"Let's just go." Cora muttered, helping Ron to his feet as Harry supported him from the other side.

"Or was it Thursdays…" Bridgit wondered aloud. "Oh well. Follow me! I have an innate sense of direction."

On the way back, they became aware of a metallic banging noise. They turned their heads to find…

"Neville! Are you okay?" Bridgit asked, spying him sitting on top of a wash bin.

"Yes…yes." Neville sighed.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Something struck against the sides of the wash bin, forcing them outwards.

"Ummm…what's up with your wash bin?" Cora asked.

"Well…after that sound, Chester started getting dangerously agitated, so I quickly tipped over the wash bin and trapped him underneath by sitting on it."

They looked at him in astonishment.

"Neville…that's absolutely brilliant!" Bridgit exclaimed.

"Die in a fire. My leg is broken! Stop shooting the breeze and get me some medical attention!" Ron thought he said. But it came out as:

"Urrrgghhh."

"R-really?" Neville looked surprised as they all took Ron's moan of suffering as a sign of agreement.

"It was less complicated than our ideas. It reflects the age-old code of the hero." Cora smiled, flexing her buff face muscles.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Wow! I've never been the best at anything!" Neville cried for joy. "Except for herbology." He added, "Although that's because I'm the only one who waters the plants because I have nothing to do." His voice trailed off.

"Anyway, we have to go now. Bye." Cora muttered as they hastily retreated onto their original path. She feared the friendship of others.

* * *

Later at the infirmary, where it was marzipan Tuesday, Harry, Bridgit and Cora were seated around Ron's bed, out of concern and nothing better to do respectively. The silence was broken by the sound of hasty footsteps. Hermione bustled into the room and headed straight for Ron. Taking his hand in hers, she said,

"Ron! Are you okay? I got here as soon as I heard."

"Y-yeah…I'm okay. Something like that can't faze me for too long." Ron grinned awkwardly, blushing.

Hermione realized her rash action and quickly dropped his hand.

"Right. Well then. What I want to know is why they were all swarming and attacking you." She pondered. "Do you kick them at night or something?"

"No! Of course not!" Ron sighed in exasperation.

"But then why?"

"Ummm…I'm unwilling to explain." Ron's face turned a deeper shade of red.

Harry sighed, "It's probably his cheap cologne."

"Harry! You broke the pact!" Ron stammered.

"What are you talking about? That pact was about where you got those socks." Harry gestured towards Ron's feet.

"Where did you get cologne in the middle of school?" Cora wondered aloud.

"…Fred and George. They said it was love cologne."

"Love cologne?" Everyone looked at him incredulously.

"Erm! I mean, manly cologne!" Ron laughed nervously.

"You do realize that's not really any better than the last name." Bridgit whispered to him.

His pride was spared by the entrance of Hagrid, followed by Dumbledore.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bridgit, Cora." Hagrid nodded to acknowledge them all. "A' righ' Ron?"

"Yeah. I'm okay." Ron smiled, his face returning to a normal colour.

"It's not your fault, Hagrid. Remember the evidence we found. It is the fault of some unknown third party… Coughcoughmalfoycoughcough! Ahem. Excuse me. I am fighting off a cold."

"I know, bu' I still feel bad." Hagrid sighed.

"I'm fine, Hagrid, don't worry!" Ron reassured him.

"Oh, I wasn't goin' on abou' tha'. I'm jus' worried abou' my poor little cradillos. They were so spooked." Hagrid sniffed, looking remorseful.

"What exactly happened?" Hermione, ever wanting to know everything, asked.

"Ah, that is quite interesting." Dumbledore said, reaching into his robes. "You see: this is the cause of the panic."

He took out a shell-like object that was broken into pieces. Clearly it had once been able to produce some kind of sound.

"Of course! That's a bewitched predator shell. When you blow into it, it produces the cry of the natural predator of the animal it is closest to. Ancient hunters used it to run things off cliffs." Hermione smiled.

"Very good, Ms. Grainger!" Dumbledore clapped his hands in delight, "You get a gold star."

He handed her a shiny little star. Hermione took it, smiling broadly, and then put it in a little sack full of gold stars.

"In this case it produced the call of the linamentum praedatorius. I get it!" Bridgit grinned.

"That's a first." Cora muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Wha' I wan' teh know is how you two managed to catch all the rest of 'em." Hagrid looked pensive, his massive brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well, I got the idea from Harry's sweater complex." Everyone looked confused, "So I realized that, since they have wool and were all rubbing against each other, they were now statically charged by the transfer of ions." Bridgit began.

"Yes…of course. I-ons." Everyone still looked confused.

"So, I knew that if I created some charged objects, I could use the force of induction by making it the opposite net charge of the cradillos to trap them. Since no magical forces could affect them, I decided to use the force of PHYSICS!" Bridgit began doing muscle physics poses and grrring.

"Ummm…you mean you made static cling?" Hermione ventured.

"Yes…" Bridgit deflated at this simplified explanation.

"Ah! I see you've been doin' some extra research!" Hagrid beamed.

"What?" No one had a clue what he was talking about.

"You see, that's similar to the way the linamentum praedatorius attack the cradillos. They have naturally evolved to have an opposite charge, so when they come into contact with the cradillos, they stick like glue. Tha's why they were gettin' so riled up: once they're caught, there's no escape." Hagrid smiled warmly during his morbid lecture.

"Very good, Miss Firecatcher, you get a gold star!" Dumbledore reached into his robes again and handed her one.

"Umm…thanks…" Bridgit forced a smile, not sure of what to do with it.

She finally decided to bite it and see if it was really made out of gold.

"Ack! It's paper!" She spat it out. "I mean…I will treasure it always." And she put it in her pocket.

Hermione silently seethed with jealousy.

"We'd best be off, as Mr. Weasley is about to have a visit from his parents." Dumbledore explained, heading towards the door in wake of Hagrid.

"How did they find out so fast?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Cora, yeh' look righ' shiny t'day." Hagrid ventured.

"Nature just recognizes my innate greatness and has created special air molecules to go around me that are shiny." Cora puffed up with pride.

"Tha's righ' impressive." Hagrid frowned in giant befuddlement.

"Com aong, Hagrid. There's work to be done." Dumbledore coaxed him from the room with candy.

"Of course. Farewell everyone!" Hagrid left, certain that Queen's English would yield even more candy.

Only moments later, the Weasleys burst into the room like a balloon of familial love. Awwww. Mrs. Weasley jogged up to the bed.

"Oh my little Ronnykins! I was so worried! Did the evil baby sheep things hurt you?" She stroked his head.

"Y-yeah mom…could you maybe let go of me?" He asked, turning red from parental embarrassment in front of his friends.

"Oh. Sorry, love!" She turned to Bridgit and Cora. "Wait a moment…Ron only has two friends. Who are you?"

"I'm Bridgit Firecatcher." Bridgit shook her hand.

"I'm Cora Willowstaff." Cora shook her hand as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Firecracker and Miss Willowsap. I'm Ron's mother, Molly Dolly Weasley." She paused. "My mother didn't like me much." She offered an explanation for her middle name.

"Well, Harry, I guess we have you to thank for our son's well being, per usual." Mr. Weasley clapped him on the shoulder.

"Actually, sir, it was them." Harry pointed at Bridgit and Cora.

"Oh! Miss Firecracker, Miss Willowsap! How ever can we thank you!" Mrs. Weasley gave them both a big hug. "My husband Arthur and I worried so much when the clock said he was in mortal peril!"

"And we're so happy that our son has made more friends." Mr. Weasley beamed. "Four! That's a new record for the boys in our family!"

"Dad…I have more than four friends."

"Shhhh…quiet, dear. The grown-ups are talking." Mrs. Weasley told him gently.

Ron's face turned red with indignation. Boo-urns!

"If you'll excuse us, Harry, Hermione, Bridgit and Cora, we'd like to spend some quality time with our son. We brought him chocolates, flowers and get well cards from all the neighbours." Mrs. Weasley explained.

"Oh, right. No problem!" The four left.

"The neighbours know?" Ron's voice traveled through the infirmary.

"Of course, dear. They're our neighbours."

"Well, I guess we'd better go study!" Hermione smiled.

"Oh my gosh! I left my notes in the field!" Cora exclaimed.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me. Well, I'll help you find them because then it will take you less time." Bridgit offered.

"We'll help too! More hands make lighter work." Hermione smiled.

"Oh, we couldn't ask that of you, Hermione! If you waste your precious study time, your grades could slip!" Cora cried.

"You're right! Thank you, Cora. You're a true friend."

"Darn tootin'!"

"Ummm, maybe I should help too-"

"Come, Harry!" Hermione interrupted him, dragging the poor guy down the hallway.

"Awww…" Bridgit moaned when Harry and Hermione were out of earshot. "Now _I_ have to think of an excuse."

Echoing down the hallway, they could still hear Ron's parents doting on their child and his embarrassed responses.

"I don't see why he's so embarrassed. It's nice to have a family." Bridgit muttered.

"Pfft! Whatever! Families are over-rated. I mean, we didn't have families and look how we turned out!" She spread her arms wide.

The two paused to actually think about that statement.

"Well, you know what I mean." Cora finished.

"Still, his parents are nice." Bridgit smiled.

"Yeah. Even if they can't remember our names." Cora continued.

"Crap! We have an orphan complex like Harry! I know how to fix this: we'll steal them!" Bridgit suggested.

Any further conversation was interrupted by Sammy and Reagan, who were running down the hallway.

"Bridgit! Cora! Are you two okay?" Reagan cried, out of breath.

"Bridgit! Cora! Is Harry okay?" Sammy asked in alarm as the pair stopped by Bridgit and Cora.

Reagan punched himself in the face. "Sammy, I punched myself to make a point. Every time you hate on Bridgit and Cora, you hurt me inside."

"Don't hurt yourself in the name of these freaks! I mean…look, they're obviously fine. I didn't want to demean them by assuming they were injured." she patted them on the head. "They're tough cookies! Nothing lady-like about 'em. Harry on the other hand…"

"Wow. Sammy just challenged our femininity." Bridgit commented.

"And yet, I don't really care." Cora added.

Sammy could sense the danger and wisely shut up.

"You two have her trained so well!" Reagan tittered.

"Ahem! Well, good job guys! If the school gossip is accurate, you protected Harry and his stupid friend well. Congratulations." She grinned.

The two held out their hands, wanting a gold star apiece. Sammy looked at the two for a moment, not sure what was expected of her.

"What? You want a tip?" She asked incredulously. "You know we're a child-labour organization. We don't get paid!"

"Well, if everyone's okay, do you want to go poke the giant squid in the lake?" Reagan asked.

"Well, we can't. We have transfiguration next." Bridgit sighed.

"Coughcough-keener-cough!" Cora coughed. "I seem to have caught Dumbledore's cold."

"Didn't you hear?" Reagan asked.

"What?"

"The rest of the day's classes have been canceled while there is an investigation over the incident. The son of an influential member of the Ministry of Magic has declared Hagrid incapable of teaching, so they're trying to find out what caused this whole mess. Apparently something like this happened two years ago, surprisingly enough from the same kid, but nothing happened, so I think that this thing'll blow over." Sammy smiled.

"I'll bet it's Malfoy." Bridgit giggled.

"Yeah! Bottom totally kicked his ass!" Cora laughed.

"We don't want to know." Sammy shook her head.

"Let's go have fun!" Reagan smiled.

And they ran off to go poke the squid.

* * *

Back in the cradillos enclosure, Moonmist sat on top of Aluicious' head telling bedtime stories to the cradillos that were in the bubble.

_**And then the genie said, ''sup yo! How's it goin' my homies?'**_ He paused to survey his flock, realizing they were all asleep.

_**Wow. That was surprisingly simple. But when is someone going to tell me what's going on?**_


	8. Snape's in the Closet

**Chapter Eight: Snape's in the Closet**

"So, did anyone find out what went on with the cradillos thing?" Harry whispered to Cora in the middle of Divination.

"Pfft! No. They couldn't reach any conclusion." Cora grumbled. "I think the gobs of money Malfoy's pater put under the investigator's noses were distracting them too much."

"Cora, you're unusually cynical today." Bridgit noted.

"Yeah, I usually get this way in her class." Cora sighed, going back to attempting to listen to her "teacher".

"So, the Garden of the Silver Wedding, located in Eastern Greenwich, is used in a very complex fortune-telling process. In the middle of the garden surrounded by a sundial of sorts made of flowers is a statue of Nostradamus writing his famous "Book of the Future". His pen, which is a phoenix quill, was made out of enchanted, hand-blown glass. Every one hundred years the sun will reach its zenith, which is the exact position needed for it to shine directly through the quill in a focused beam of sunlight that will strike a certain part of the garden, thus lighting it on fire."

At this point in the lesson, everyone stared at her in disbelief.

"The portion of the garden that does not burn down indicates the type of plague that will sweep the nation of Great Britain. For instance, one hundred years prior, a plague of sour goat's milk swept the land. It was a terrible, terrible time." She finished in a misty voice, which was the only voice she ever used.

"Cool! Fire. This is some divination I can appreciate." Cora grinned.

"You're so destructive." Bridgit laughed.

"Why are you laughing?" Ron asked, fearfully eyeing Cora.

"Your homework for tomorrow is to research in your textbook, "I Spy With My Divination Eye" what plague will affect England this year when the destined event happens Wednesday afternoon. With that said, the class is over. I foresee you will have some difficulties in your next class, so I recommend that you steel yourself for the inevitable." She finished.

"Nooo!" Lavender and Parvati wailed.

"It would be troubling…if she didn't say that everyday after class." Harry  
snickered.

"Yay! I love it when I get to use my imagination for homework." Bridgit cheered, loud enough for Trelawney to hear.

"Not 'imagination' dear, 'divination'. It's a common mistake. Students make it all the time." She smiled sleepily. "Actually, there may be a question about that on your exam. Wink wink!" She breezed past them.

"Let's get a head start." Cora suggested, blatantly ignoring her. "Let's see… England will be assaulted by a plague of noisy door hinges that squeak like excited fangirls."

"A plague of smelly olives!" Harry quickly scribbled down on his parchment.

"Let's see…" Ron paused to think. Outside, a player of pretend Quidditch (for people who suck at it) crashed into the window. "A plague of klutziness!"

"My turn!" Bridgit grinned. "A plague of fish rain."

"Very…interesting." Cora sighed. "And as much as I'd love to discuss the horrors of fish rain, I think we should maybe head to our next class, seeing as the room is now empty except for us."

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, I realize you children don't want to leave, but I have to retire to my hypobaric chamber for five hours' rest to retain my youthful beauty. I may look thirty-five, but I'm actually thirty-six. Can you believe it?"

"No!" Bridgit pretended to be shocked.

"You don't look a day over thirty-five and a half!" Cora said in pretend awe.

"Oh, you girls." Trelawny chuckled. "You're such a tease. Now go away." But they had already left in the middle of her sentence.

"I'm so lonely." She said in a small voice.

* * *

Harry and Ron hurried ahead so that they could finish their homework for history of magic before class began. Bridgit and Cora proceeded at a leisurely pace until Bridgit diverged down the opposite hallway.

"What gives? History's that way." Cora said.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Bridgit whined.

"Okay, just hurry up. I'll keep an eye on Harry and catch up with you in the snooze room."

"Y'know, he isn't a scary ghost, but I'm sure he could bore people to death faster than a bear-lion could maul a Hufflepuff to death." Bridgit laughed.

Cora headed down the hallway, books in one arm and pillow in the other. As she walked, she suddenly felt like she was being watched. She turned around and saw nothing. Then she looked down and saw Chewie, Blindie's not-so-faithful Seeing Eye dog. Cora bent down and began to scratch him under the chin.

"You're a good dog! Yeessss you are! Yesss you are! I'll bet Blindie never fed you. How could he? Poor puppy! You just wanted food. Didn't you? Yessss you did! That's why you ate the hateful thing." Chewie rolled on his back and started drooling.

"Okay, now you're just grossing me out. See you later, Chewie." Chewie barked happily and went off to go do some dog thing and Cora continued on her historical journey to history. Ha ha ha.

Bridgit emerged from the lou (because this is Britain) feeling ever so relieved, but not to the degree provided by Rolaids™. Taking her time walking down the hallway (the stupid ghost teacher never noticed when someone was late) she suddenly heard a faint sound echoing down the hallway. She concentrated and could almost make out strains of music playing nearby, which was odd because there was no music class in the entire school. In fact, Dumbledore was fiercely opposed to the fine arts, believing that they were "too gay".

Suspicious of the nature of the melody and wanting any excuse not to go to class, she crept quietly down the hallway, following the sound. As it got louder, she could make out the distinct voice of a violin winding its way in a metaphorical dance through the delicate nuances of an enchanting refrain. It was the most beautiful song she had ever heard. She sank to her knees and listened contentedly.

"I like music." She smiled like Trelawney.

Her rapture caused a sudden twinge in her memory, calling forth the recollection of the time when her school in Canada needed more money to buy science textbooks. It was a time before his reindeer farm enterprise where Trex resorted to starting his own church in order to raise funds. Calling it the 'Binary Church of Antarctica', he managed to get quite a following with a neat little trick. He would add brass notes that human beings couldn't hear, but still affected them physically and caused them to feel a combination of contentment and unease. Mistaking this for actual spirituality, the parishioners attended in droves. Too bad he forgot to pay fake church taxes and had to foreclose his religion. Angry at the failings of science, Trex used the textbook money remaining under his mattress to start up his reindeer farm.

"Something's not right." She was suddenly struck by an overdue realization. " The Stradivarius spell." She breathed. "But who would be using this? And why?" Then, as her mind slowly turned its wheels again, she made another realization.

"Wait a minute! That song is fatal! Someone's trying to kill someone else. Oh no! I must stop them."

She bolted down the hallway, following the clues in her ear much like a bloodhound will follow a smelly convict. Both could prove equally fatal.

Rounding a corner, she almost ran right into a janitor's closet that had a large, rusty padlock keeping it shut. The music, though still muffled, was coming from inside and drawing dangerously near its end. Being unsuccessful at blocking the sound from her ears now that she had listened to it for so long, she realized she had to get to the source of the spell and terminate it. She began to pick at the lock with a bobby pin she carried in her pocket.

"I'm just like the Bobsy twins!" She marveled at her resourcefulness. Her bobby pin broke.

"Oh no! And I haven't a granny pin on me! I'm doomed!" She cried. "Oh wait. I can use magic." She flung the shattered remains of the pin to the ground and cast a spell that melted the lock into molten metal, which gathered in a pool of glowing burning gunk on the floor which quickly ate through the stone and fell dangerously into the lower levels of the school.

"Much better." She said in satisfaction.

Flinging open the door, Bridgit quickly took in her surroundings, being painfully aware that she only had a few seconds left. There on the ground was Professor Snape. He looked like he was dead, but then again he always looked like he was dead. There was also a statue, a mop and an enchanted violin. It took her half a second to figure out which one was the bad thing.

She started kicking Professor Snape in the ribs.

"Why are you doing this? Do you want to die?" She yelled.

The music didn't stop with her kicking, and the song was almost on its last note. In desperation, she wound up for a super whammy kick, but missed. Losing her balance, she fell over backwards and crushed the violin into splinters with her ass.

"Oh no! I broke it!" She cried. "My ass is so fat!" She cried some more due to her poor body image issues. Eventually, as her sobs trailed off, she realized the music had stopped.

"Exactly as I planned." She nodded in satisfaction. She then looked at Professor Snape's prone form, trying to figure out how to revive him.

"Well, kicking solved the last problem, ergo…" She kicked him in the ribs. Again. Professor Snape yelled in pain and sat up, grabbing his aching side.

"Why aren't you in class?" He rasped. "Why does my side hurt?"

"I came to rescue you! But my princess is in another castle." Her fears that Snape would turn into a fly monster and jump away were sadly misplaced.

"How do I know you weren't the one trying to kill me?" He demanded.

"You mean you weren't committing suicide?" Bridgit tilted her head to one side, eyes wide. "Because I figured if there was one person who had nothing to live for in this school, it would be you."

"Don't be ridiculous! I have an eleven-year-old boy to exact my vengeance upon." Snape foamed.

"I'm pretty sure he's older than that." Bridgit ventured.

"I don't have time for petty details." He waved his hand.

"So, I totally saved your life." Bridgit smiled.

"Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape frowned.

"But you said you _wanted_ to live!"

"I said no such thing!"

"C'mon. You should probably go to the medical wing." He was obviously senile.

"I'm fine!" He spat. He tried to stand, but fell into the outstretched arms of the statue. He glared at Bridgit.

"If word of this gets out, you fail potions." He snarled, trying not to look at the statue's nudey bits.

"But I'm doing so well!" Bridgit cried. Snape glowered at her in triumph and slumped to the ground.

"Of all the retarded students at this god-forsaken school, why did I have to get the one with delusions of grandeur?" Snape wanted to gouge his eyes out.

"Look, it wouldn't kill you to be even slightly nicer to me." Bridgit sighed, having difficulties trying to deal with these constraining group dynamics.

"Yes it would!" He screamed. Bridgit cocked an eyebrow.

"This should be interesting. How?"

"It's none of your business!" Snape snapped.

"But now I want to know!" Bridgit whined. "You can't just lead people around like that. It's mean!"

"Exactly." He smiled.

"Fine! I'll make up my own story. The president of the grumpy, mean middle-aged club elected you to be the figurehead leader of the group while he secretly controls your actions from the shadows so that if anything goes wrong you will be the scapegoat. So, you can't betray their code of meanness, or else he'll kill you." She finished with much gusto.

"That was so painfully stupid I am forced out of my feelings of self-preservation to tell the truth."

"Yeah, I have a knack for doing that to people. Trex says if there's ever a war, I'll get to be an interrogator!" Bridgit giggled. "I'm like Wonder Woman ™, only I use my words as weapons, instead of a magic lasso and actual justice!"

"God help us all." Snape sighed. "On to my dramatic, yet uncalled for confession. In the folly of youth, I foolishly decided once to become a death eater to get the attention of this girl I liked."

"Uh huh." She prompted him.

"The requirement for getting into the club was that you had the dark mark tattooed on your arm."

"Tattoos are cool! Can I see? Cora has a tattoo on her back and it's in the shape of a dragon. She got it this one summer when-"

"And so ends my tale." Snape finished.

"Wait! You didn't explain anything. You just tried to distract me so you could dodge out."

Snape growled. Upon hearing the awkward silence that ensued, he continued. "If I'm nice, the poisons locked in the tattoo will be unleashed into my bloodstream, causing me a slow and painful death. There is no known cure, so I can't be nice, ever."

"What was the point of that?" Bridgit asked.

"Lord Voldemort wanted to ensure an evil army. None of that deus ex machina change of heart crap." Snape explained.

"But didn't you turn against the Deatheaters? I mean, you're here. You seem not to be killing people."

"By being nasty and petty to innocent children I am able to prevent my inevitable demise for another day." Snape glared meanly at her.

"Cool! I wish I could have something to blame chronic meanness on! Then I could be a jackass and no one could do anything about it." Bridgit smiled dreamily.

Suddenly, the door to the closet was opened by a knife-wielding man with no head. There was a tense pause in which Snape's eyes bugged out of his head. The silence was broken.

"Severedhead!" Snape's voice rasped.

"I can't tell the difference! Which one is the real Snape?" Bridgit goggled at the two.

"Crap!" The headless stranger gasped and then bolted.

"So he was the fake all along." Bridgit shook her head, smacking her fist dramatically into the palm of her hand. "I blame the internet."


	9. The Impostor and the Wallet

**Chapter Nine: The Impostor and the Wallet**

Bridgit shuffled slowly down the hallway, giving a sigh and a look of pity at Professor Snape. He was dragging himself like a pitiful inchworm slightly ahead of her as they traveled to get him medical attention. She had tried to go to fetch Madame Pomfrey for help, but he deducted points every time she took the lead. By the time she figured he would accept no help, the number of points she had cost her house was over 9000! Snape said a silent prayer for behavioral psychologists everywhere…particularly Watson whose experiments of torturing children to see what would happen had inspired his own present outlook on life.

Bridgit had then verbally offered to help him, but he had flatly refused and insisted on going to Dumbledore's office instead of seeking the medical attention he so desperately desired.

"Slow down! You're going too fast." Snape grumped, crawling along the floor behind her. "This floor is filthy!" He roared. "That squib Filch isn't doing his job! If he weren't so busy trying to make babies with his cat wife-"

"I think the floors are fine." Bridgit didn't want to hear about a gross person's pretend sex life with an animal.

"Are you sure that you don't want to go to the infirmary first? Bridgit changed the subject.

"No! I must tell Dumbledore what happened immediately." Snape continued dragging himself along like a gimped snake.

_Oh yes. You must tell your darling Dumbley-wumbley right away, for he awaits you with baited breath. I know you yearn for the comforting embrace of his arms, but be strong for now, dear Severus._ Bridgit thought to herself.

"I recognize that expression of passive-aggressive bitchiness. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"How the hell do you keep doing that? And why do I keep helping you?" Bridgit sighed.

"Here we are. Now close your ears while I give the super-ultra-secret password." Snape completed his journey before two statues of stone gargoyles hiding the super-ultra-secret staircase.

Bridgit rolled her eyes and jammed her fingers in her ears.

"Thundercats ho!" Snape whispered.

The stone gargoyles sprang to life, entered small spacecraft and zoomed away at the speed of sound leaving only thunder in their wake.

"Now, Cora, I know it was amusing, but it was inappropriate." Bridgit heard Dumbledore say.

"You have no proof it was me." Cora said coolly.

Bridgit, letting her curiosity get the best of her, ran up the steps to find out what Cora had done.

"You stay there!" She yelled back at Snape.

"I'm afraid the entire class of eyes-witnesses beg to differ." Dumbledore contradicted her.

"Objection!" Cora pointed a finger at him. "Eye-witness testimony is both fallible and malleable."

"Only in North America. I'm afraid to avoid suspension, you will have to apologize to your classmates, to Professor Binns and to re-take that particular lecture."

"I'd rather have to battle for my life in a pit full of poisonous snakes." Cora growled.

"I knew you'd understand." He said warmly. Bridgit interrupted them by walking into the room.

"What'd you do? What'd you do?" Bridgit asked excitedly. Cora grinned mischievously.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" asked Dumbledore.

"Oh, someone tried to kill Snape, but I heroically stopped him with my beauty, valor and muscles. The culprit ran away at the sight of me! I'm not sure how he noticed my intense good looks, since he had no head. Anyway, I think he was an impostor because there can't be two Snapes and I figured the Snape who had a head was the real one. I left Real Snape outside." Bridgit said.

"Really?" Dumbledore asked dubiously, hoping it was a horrible, horrible lie.

"Yeah." Bridgit confirmed her wild tale. Dumbledore sighed.

"Yes, even us jolly guys have our bad days. Well, except for my cousin Santa Clause. Lucky dog only has to work one day a year." He left the office to go find Snape. He paused at the door. "Where is he, again?"

"I told you: Fake Snape got away and I left Real Snape at the bottom of the stairs." Bridgit confirmed as they all headed out the secret entrance.

"Ah, here he is!" Dumbledore spied the potions master being strangled to death by his headless impostor.

"Crap!" The impostor exclaimed, then threw a smoke bomb and ran away.

"So…what now?" Asked Cora.

"Oh, that guy tried to kill Snape with that spell Professor Summersong taught us with the violin. Then he used a knife and then his hands. I don't know what he'll use next." Bridgit misinterpreted Cora's question. "Perhaps penguins of some kind."

"Uh…" Cora couldn't believe the communication gap despite their common language.

"But the impostor must have some kind of social phobia. Every time he's around people, he runs away." Bridgit mused. "I'll bet we can use it against him!"

"That's so sad. He must not have any friends." Cora looked after him sympathetically.

"I shall run after the assassin. Please take Professor Snape to the infirmary immediately and suspend your guard duties of Harry until further notice." Dumbledore called to them as he ran down the hallway, unusually spry for an old geezer.

"So, what did you do to get in that much trouble for?" Bridgit, having been conditioned, ignored the idea of taking Snape to the infirmary.

"Well, it all started with a very civilized debate. We were learning about the history of the Ministry of Magic and Binns incorrectly asserted that the first minister was a man and not an octopus, as is common knowledge. I tried to correct him but he insisted that I was mistaken and that the ministry has never had an octopus as Minister of Magic. He refused to relent."

"The rogue!" Bridgit gasped.

"I know! Trex clearly stated in our history of the world class that the first minister of magic was, and I quote, "an octopus or something like that."" Cora crossed her arms.

"That was the year they confiscated our textbooks because they were so old that they were growing carcinogenic mold. And Trex heroically taught us history from his own mighty memory. It's too bad magic still hasn't found a cure for cancer." Bridgit shook her head sadly.

"Anyway, I was really pissed, so I decided to give him a little taste of my haymaker."

"But Binns is a ghost! Physical attacks don't affect him." Bridgit pointed out.

"So I learned." Cora sighed. "I shot fire at him, but that wasn't very effective either. In the end, I had to resort to using psychic. That was super effective and he fainted. I gained 30 exp and raised a level, learning frustration. It was, all in all, a very unproductive class." Cora finished her story.

Cora sadly purged the real memory of what had actually happened from her mind. In reality Binns had shown her documented proof that the first Minister was, indeed, a person and provided her with DNA records and his death certificate from when he had drowned. She had then screamed 'you're not the boss of me!' and ran from the room, lighting the chalkboard on fire as she went. But because memory is partially reconstructed, she was able to avoid conflict with her ego.

"So, Snape's looking a little green, eh?" Cora changed the subject.

"I guess so." Bridgit conceded, fearing the loss of more house points.

"We should probably do what Dubledore told us to." Cora prompted her friend.

"Yeah…" Bridgit looked uneasy.

" But first…let's pinch his wallet."

* * *

Dumbledore sprinted nimbly to the broom and naked statue closet, which was now a crime scene. The culprit was long gone, so he decided looking for clues would be the best use of his time. He burst into the empty room and gasped. The walls were somehow covered in blood…he assumed it was Snape's. His true concern, however, lay not with his faculty member, but a beloved rendition of a urinating angel.

"Thank Satan the statue's okay!" Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief.

He noted the shattered violin on the ground and nudged it with his curly-toed shoe. He noticed a flash of white and bent down to retrieve a messy note.

"I did it. It was me." And it was signed, "Severedhead Snape."

"Well, that cinches it. The culprit can be only one man: Severus' estranged brother: Severedhead!" He explained out loud for no reason.

He brushed his hands together.

"Well, my work here is done. Off to Hogsmeade and the shapely curves of Madame Rosemerta." He sighed, blushing a little at the thought of butterbeer.

He suddenly slammed his fist into his palm.

"No, Goddammit! I'm going to act like a man. I will have _real_ beer. Nice and warm."

* * *

Meanwhile, Bridgit was looking at Cora in abject horror.

"What?" Cora asked.

"You mean you were serious?" Bridgit couldn't believe her ears.

"Oh, don't look so shocked!" Cora berated her friend.

"No, it's not your lack morality! How much do you really expect to find in a teacher's wallet?"

"Ten bucks, but that's not the point! Maybe we'll find something to blackmail him with!" Cora happily forecasted.

"Yes, because Snape isn't paranoid at all and is totally the type to carelessly leave incriminating evidence in his wallet."

They searched his pockets and Cora found a jingling sack full of coins. Cora gave it a sideways glance, but decided that money was money.

"Oy, watch yourself." The bag, which apparently was able to talk out its money hole, warned her.

"Screw you." Cora jammed her fist into the bag.

The bag then bit her.

"Aghhhhh!" Cora yelped in pain. "How can it have teeth?"

"Wait, maybe it's like those biting books." Bridgit rushed in and tried tickling it.

The bag, with razor sharp drawstrings, cut deep into her hand.

"Ow! This isn't magical at all." Bridgit whined.

"Get off!" Cora ran around screaming, violently flailing her arm about.

The bag got dizzy, lost its grip and was flung against the stone walls. There was a sharp crack upon impact and the bag slid slowly to the floor, leaving a trail of blood.

"Neat!" Cora started to pillage it's corpse.

"What? Only two sickles!" She frowned in disappointment.

"That's more than I expected." Bridgit said.

Cora reached in to take the coins out to add to her collection of stolen money.

"All according to plan." She pocketed the cash. "Wait, I think there's something else in here. Some kind of book."

As her fingers closed around the object, a large electric shock sent her flying into the wall. Cora groaned and climbed to her feet, looking angrily at her scorched hand. Bridgit burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at? My hand is severely burned!" Cora yelled.

"I'm sorry! It's just that your hair is standing on end!" Bridgit said between laughs.

"Oh like you've never seen hair standing up before." Cora muttered irritably.

"It's not that. Your messy hair looks like Einstein's and I find the dichotomy hilarious!" Bridgit continued to laugh cruelly at her injured friend.

"Stupid wallet! Should have known better. Whatever, this only proves that he has something to hide!" Cora threw the little black book to the ground in disgust. A whole bunch of pictures fell out.

"Yes! Jackpot!" Cora whooped with delight, "Now we have some blackmail material." She picked up the pictures.

"They might not necessarily have blackmailing potential. I mean, they could be pictures of his family or something." Bridgit warned Cora.

"Look at his face." Cora shook her head and pointed at the unconscious professor. "Does that look like the face of someone who has a family?"

"Well, he was born, right?" Bridgit gave Cora a scathing look.

"From the bowels of hell." Cora started sifting through the pile of photographs.

"Let's see…Snape and Hagrid with Hagrid in bondage and Snape dressed lolita, crap, crap, crap, Snape sewing a tarantula skin purse in a sweatshop, crap, oh, here's your family photo." Cora chucked it over her shoulder and Bridgit barely managed to catch it.

His family was creepy and the photo was in grainy black and white. Snape's brother had no head, his father was bleeding from several stab wounds and his mother literally had a horse's face. They were all twitching sporadically and the mother was neighing, threatening to beat her sons under her sturdy hooves.

"I wanna go home!" Bridgit sobbed.

"Whoa!" Cora suddenly stopped.

"What is it?"

"Look!"

They went through about twenty pictures of McGonnagal, all of which were clearly candid. Especially the one of her sleeping.

While Bridgit stared in horror, Cora exclaimed, "Jackpot!" once again.

She triumphantly thrust a picture into Bridgit's view. It was a Death-eater photo of some kind of kegger and Snape stood all alone in the background, ridiculously fat.

"…Snape was fat?"

"I know! You'd think not based on how skinny and wretched he is now…" Bridgit went off into imagination land.

~Snape stood in his cold dungeon, throwing all of his food into the furnace window and sulked in front of a mirror.

"You're fat! You're fat and ugly and no one likes you! Boooo! Booooo!" He sobbed.~

"Best birthday ever." She grinned.

"Well, I guess we have a winner. Now to just put these back before-"

Snape's eyes exploded into openness.

"What the hell is your major malfunction?" He slurred.

"..." Bridgit mechanically stated.

"Oh god, the bells." Snape moaned, rolling over.

Putting his weight on his bad arm, he grunted in pain and then passed out again.

"You're silly!" Bridgit giggled.

"Well, that was close." Cora sighed, putting back the corpse of his moneybag. Hopefully he wouldn't notice until it started to decay.

"Weren't we supposed to be doing something important?" Bridgit pondered aloud.

"Well," Cora paid Snape's unconscious visage a visit with her eyes, "it could have something to do with this unpleasant dead guy."

"Right, the infirmary! We'd better help him out; he's not so bad. It would be wrong to let him die."

"Perhaps. But, I still don't like him." Cora muttered.

"Well, what about when he's unconscious? He's less lippy that way." Bridgit mused. "Do you suppose there's a spell for that?"

"No, idiot. It's called a coma." Cora sighed.

"A coma, eh? Where can I find a coma spell?" Cora patted her friend's head.

"There, there, Bridgit. It's clear you've done too much thinking today. I'll relieve your brain of duty."

"THANK YOU!" Bridgit sighed in relief. She then started to drool.

"Frieeeeeeeeeend."

"Right!" Cora clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Time to get you healed."

"I'll do it!" Bridgit's hand shot up into the air. "I'm a healing-type magical girl just like Reagan!"

"No you're not!"

"Yes I am, watch me!" She spun around in a circle, entered horse stance and thrust her palms out in front of her. "HEAL!" She commanded.

Snape's body exploded on contact.

"Shit! To intensive care!" Cora yelled as she and Bridgit quickly dragged Snape off before he died.


	10. Secrets Revealed

**Chapter Ten: Secrets Revealed**

They finally made it to the medical wing, bleeding Snape dragging unpleasantly behind them.

"Dear diary via magic quill;

It is I again, DR. Pomfrey. I'm still working at Hogwart's, but only to gain the attention of the one that I love. I did my hair in two braids today instead of half of one and he didn't even notice. I'm beginning to wonder if his attentions are focused elsewhere with that vile whore, McGonnagal. They're always having their special "staff meetings" and I can see through their little front; they can't pull the gauze bandages over _my_ eyes."

"Um, excuse me?" Cora ventured timidly.

"Honestly! Who does she think she is, wearing those tight black robes all the time? That bun she wears just screams 'I'm a sexy librarian, just pull my hair down and see where I'll take you!' I don't even think her robes are opaque black. She may pretend otherwise, but I'll bet she has him wrapped around her little finger. What hope do I have against such an amoral seductress?"

"A-HEM!" Bridgit loudly cleared her throat.

"OH!" She started, "Y-You girls again? You two are in here more often than Neville." Madame Pomfrey quickly slammed shut her painfully gigantic diary. "What seems to be the- oh my god! Severus!" She was truly aghast. "What happened to you?"

As Snape was clearly unable to respond, Bridgit fielded that question.

"Uhhh...A statue fell on him." She lied.

"After being repeatedly attacked by a strange man with no head!" Cora added with much gusto. Not usually the purveyor of truth, it made her feel more righteous than usual.

"What a dramatic turn of events! For one so young as this to be in the clutches of a deformed monster." Madame Pomfrey got a dreamy look on her face.

"I think she's fantasizing now." Cora whispered to Bridgit.

"Could she have been writing about Snape?" Bridgit raised her eyebrows.

"Excellent." Cora hissed. "If there's a potential love interest in his life, all the more reason he won't want his fat photo to get out."

"Anyway!" Madame Pomfrey snapped back to reality, "It seems I have some vital organ reconstruction to attend to." She levitated him into the next room.

"Oh yeah. Levitation." Cora dawned on the idea and smacked her fist into her palm. "Ahhhhh!" She groaned in pain.

"I sense injuries!" Madame Pomfrey creepily scuttled back into the room and took a quick look at Cora's hand before she had a chance to hide it. "Don't worry, I shall tend to that after I have _stabilized_ the good professor." She went into a _private_ room.

"Did you hear that?" Bridgit leaned against the wall outside. "The 'good' professor." She smirked.

"I'm having my doubts! Snape would never be interested in Madame Pomfrey. She's got a Liverpool accent and a sketchy class background." Cora objected.

"Weren't you listening? That's just a front to keep prying eyes away from their steamy, sweaty snogging with the chance of more to come." Bridgit giggled, absolutely clueless about what she'd just said since no boy within a thirty-mile radius would touch her.

"Gross." Cora made a face. They were too old to be sexy.

"What's gross?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

There was an awkward pause during which Cora was painfully aware of the sharp throbbing in her electrocuted hand and the other, which had been gnawed on.

"My hands hurt." She whined.

Bridgit simply held up her hand, still somewhat vigorously spurting blood.

"I'm dizzy." She mentioned.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A horrible, blood-curdling scream came from the _private_ room that was so terrifying, the two could never thereafter be entirely convinced that it truly belonged to Snape.

Followed by further screaming, Madame Pomfrey emerged cheerfully from the room.

"Right then, who's next!" She smiled.

Bridgit and Cora looked squeamishly at each other.

"Well, Cora's hand is charred and the other is gnawed on. It looks very painful, I think she should go next." Bridgit meekly offered.

"But Bridgit is losing blood much faster than I am. True I'm in discomfort, but her bleeding hasn't stopped and just a few minutes ago she mentioned how dizzy she felt. I think that's very concerning." Cora coolly offered her superior answer.

"Oh girls, you're so sweet. I remember when I used to have female friends, before we started to notice boys. Then they all inexplicably became bitches." She sighed. "Oh well. Bridgit, shall we?"

"Oh God." Bridgit inaudibly murmured. "I'm sorry that I've been so bad. Please find room for me, I'll be coming soon."

"Oh dear, there's nothing to be afraid of. Why, magical medicine has advanced beyond the barbaric practices of muggles." She tittered, leading Bridgit into another private room.

Bridgit gave an imploring last look back at her friend.

"Bye!" Cora waved cheerfully.

Cora stood there, slightly nervous, but certain she was making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, Dumbledore only chose the best and Snape was probably just a wuss.

"Oh, my. That is a rather deep cut." Madame Pomfrey's voice echoed down the hall. "I'm afraid that hand's going to have to come off!"

"What?" Bridgit exclaimed.

"Nice and quick, so you don't fret."

There was a heavy thud, like the sound of a meat cleaver.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" That same curious scream, only in a different range. Yet, how could it be Bridgit?

"Now hold still dear." Madame Pomfrey sounded a little harried as the screaming continued, followed by the sounds of running and furniture being knocked over.

As the running continued a jet of blood suddenly sprayed from inside the room out the open door and up the wall.

Cora stared in horror at the blood, heard the chase stop and the screams diminish to whimpering.

"There, there, see? That wasn't so bad."

She heard Bridgit crying.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to see about your friend now. But first: getting the right tools." Cora heard the sound of something metal being sharpened upon a moving stone wheel.

"Forgive me Bridgit!" Cora wept and turned, running out the door.

She ran right into the unforgiving, yet quite ample bosom of Sammy. Bouncing back, she hit the floor, somewhat dazed.

"Watch where you're going, idiot." Sammy grunted a greeting.

"Oh, what happened to your hands?" Reagan looked horrified.

"Bridgit! Bridgit!" Cora sobbed. "Let me away from here before she does it to me too!"

"Cora, you're not making any sense." Sammy sighed.

"Oh Cora, calm down. I know doctors are scary, but you're a big girl now. She's only trying to help you. Besides, Dumbledore has a very competent staff and I'm sure Madame Pomfrey is up to date on the best of magical high school nurse healing techniques." Reagan tried to calm Cora down.

"Don't let her do it!" Cora wailed. "Please! Please! I won't go in there. You can't make me!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin. Reagan, can you just heal her? I'm sick of hearing her whine. She can realize what an idiot she's been when Bridgit gets back." Sammy ran her hand roughly through her hair.

"Well, I don't want to step on anyone's toes, but…just this once." Reagan tilted his head to one side.

"Oh, Reagan. You're an angel." Cora sobbed quietly.

"Moon….healing…..activation." Reagan called out in a soft, melodic voice, spinning around gracefully.

Pleased by his dance, the moon spirits allowed him to call upon their powers and, as Cora felt soothing, cool water coming across her hands, her skin began to regrow and regenerate.

Relieved beyond belief, she collapsed to the ground, still quietly sobbing.

"Now, let's go see what a good job Madame Pomfrey did on Bridgit." Sammy hauled Cora to her feet and dragged her towards the room against her struggles. Reagan followed behind to make sure she couldn't escape.

They entered the room just as Madame Pomfrey stood, brandishing some kind of magical meat cleaver.

"Oh, I see you already took care of her for me. Thank you, Reagan. It always tires me out when I have to heal too many people in one day." She smiled.

"Tell me about it." Reagan laughed, somehow thinking the knife was for lunch preparation.

"As you can see, Bridgit's hand is re-growing quite nicely." She gestured to Bridgit, who, pale and trembling, was sitting in the corner nursing a thing that could best be described as a fleshy tentacle.

"I'm sorry, what?" Reagan tilted his head to one side.

"Her hand. It's re-growing quite well. You see, it was cut quite badly, and to avoid infection, I simply decided to start from scratch. Much more efficient!" She giggled.

Words cannot describe the looks of horror on Sammy and Reagan's faces; Sammy, because she would have to eat crow, Reagan at the butchery of his art.

"Let's go see how Snape's doing!" Madame Pomfrey suggested. "I'm sure you've noticed that we do things a little differently here, so I'll let you have a look at Snape, Reagan, so you can observe for your education. You really are a very promising young healer."

They followed in stunned silence, except for Bridgit who couldn't walk. As soon as they entered the room, Cora fainted. Snape was laying down on a table, staring in horror at his open chest cavity, where several pounds of flesh appeared to be forming into new organs. He gaped in horror at his own beating heart.

"As soon as I've closed him up, you can visit him and Bridgit in the recovery room."

"Fascinating." Reagan said stiffly. "Well, I can see you're busy. We'll go wait in the waiting room." Reagan ushered Sammy, carrying a freshly out Cora, into the waiting room.

"Oh my God." Sammy breathed, once they were out of earshot.

Reagan, too stunned to speak, said nothing and kept walking.

* * *

Several hours later, Madame Pomfrey, seeming quite tired, informed Cora, Sammy and Reagan that they could now visit Snape and Bridgit in the recovery room. As they entered, Reagan immediately went to look at Bridgit's hand. The fleshy tentacle had split in five and it would become a fully functional hand by the time it was morning. For some reason feeling sorry for Snape, Reagan also made sure that his organs were okay.

"I'm sorry we brought you here, sir. It was Dumbledore's orders." Cora said numbly.

"It's best not to speak of it." Snape murmured, still feeling quite weak.

It was indeed best not to speak of it, as this sudden turn in medicinal practices was actually his fault. Disgusted by her quaint homeopathic medicine (which was totally ripping off his potions skillz anyway) he surreptitiously took out a subscription to "Magical Medicine Monthly" in her name to imply that she needed to use "real" medicine. Unfortunately for him, "real" medicine was far more invasive than he had ever expected. He felt only a tiny bit bad that he was responsible for the pain of others…especially when they would be whining about it, probably to him, for quite some time.

He turned his head slightly to look at Bridgit. She wasn't speaking, still clutching her tentacle arm and staring straight ahead. Well, at least it had some benefits.

"The reason Sammy and I came here is to tell you that we've been reassigned to watch after Harry. Dumbledore has asked the centaurs to look after the school, so you've been reassigned to Snape. It turns out that the headless man is his estranged older brother, Severedhead Snape. He has a criminal record for participating in eco-terrorism. We don't know what his motives at Hogwart's are yet. Unless Snape's running a baby seal boot factory from his living quarters." Reagan sighed, still watching Bridgit in concern. There were some things magic couldn't heal.

"_Professor_ Snape" Snape weakly corrected him.

"Sure. I'll take care of Bridgit, too." Cora shivered a bit.

"Excellent!" Madame Pomfrey clapped her hands together. "Well, I'll go brew us some tea." She went to do so.

"Make sure it's not poison." Sammy spat after her as she left.

Bridgit slowly beckoned Cora over. Cora quickly went to her friend's bedside.

"What is it?"

"The picture." Bridgit rasped. "Show me…the picture."

"Here, anything, buddy." Cora didn't hesitate.

Bridgit, using her last strength, burned it magically. As Bridgit suddenly fell asleep, Cora nodded. After what they had gone through, blackmail was a little too bastardly.


	11. PreBall Banter

**Chapter Eleven: Pre-Ball Banter**

Time passed, therapy happened. It is now later…to be exact it is…Halloween!

"Halloween is coming! Halloween is coming!" Parvati squealed with delight as she frolicked down the hallways in a very town crier-esque manner.

She then promptly tripped and tumbled down a long staircase. No one cared.

"Stupid children. How can Halloween be coming when it's already here?" Snape muttered, with very healthy organs facilitating his hatred.

"Ummm…shouldn't you be getting help for her instead of pondering the feasibility of her statement?" Bridgit hesitantly questioned, raising her new hand which was as good as the old one.

"Fine." He grumbled in his trade-mark Snape voice. "But more importantly, why are you two dressed in a manner not befitting the honor and traditions of Hogwart's school?"

"So's your face!" Bridgit retorted.

"What?" Not giving him time to get angry at Bridgit's childish quip, Cora jumped in.

"You just said yourself: it's Halloween! Why didn't you dress up?"

"What are you talking about? And answer quickly or else I'll take ten points from Gryffindor." Snape growled.

"It's Halloween! You're supposed to dress up on Halloween! Like we did!"

Snape warily eyed the pair. Bridgit was dressed in a strange ensemble with jester's stockings, black clothing and a pointy hat. She also had a large, metal staff. Cora had her hair pulled back into a bun and dyed orange. She wore a pair of star and moon earrings with a dress patterned with hats, moons, stars, brooms and wands. Perched on her shoulder, Moonmist sat sulking while wearing a felt green mask and booties. Cora held in her left hand a rope tied around Neville Longbottom's waist. Said Longbottom had a cardboard image of a bus strung over his front and back.

"And what, pray, are you supposed to be?" He pretended that he wasn't horrified.

"I'm Rikku from Final Fantasy X! I'm dressed as a black mage! Look at my hair!" Bridgit lifted up her hat to reveal a mass of braids and beads.

"Well, I don't see how that-"

"I'm Miss Frizzle!" Cora interrupted. "This is Liz the lizard and my magic school bus. I take children on fieldtrips into people's bodies. Now, all I have to do is round up some first years and take them on a field trip into Hogwart's inner workings."

If someone had had a device to see into Snape's mind, they would have seen a little rendition of himself crying in fear. He covered this up with an ugly sneer (because sneers are never pretty, otherwise they would lose their dramatic effect.)

"What do you expect to accomplish from wearing these," He narrowed his eyes, "ridiculous codswallops?"

"Candy!" The two chimed at the same time, like rival clocks.

"For your disregarding Hogwart's dress code I sentence you to detention!" Snape foamed at the mouth.

"Okay…but will you please help Parvati?" Bridgit looked up at him with big puppy eyes.

"Well, for asking like that….no! Parvati can burn in the eternal fires of hell." His eyes roved madly in all directions from rage.

"Isn't it your duty to help the students and save them from, oh I don't know, death?" Cora glared at him incredulously.

"Fine!" He spat, storming off to go save Parvati from death.

"Why are we stuck with him?" Bridgit sobbed.

"Can I go now?" Neville squeaked in fright.

"No! You're part of the ensemble! Besides, Snape-watching will help you get over your fear almost as effectively as covering yourself with meat and rolling around in the forest would help you conquer your fear of bear attacks." Cora reprimanded him.

"Ohhhhh." Neville moaned. "This is a terrible situation! Why did no one help me when you kidnapped me and forced me to wear this bus?"

"The bus never talks! It just looks mournfully towards freedom! Stay in character!" She kicked him for his insolence.

Suddenly Reagan and Sammy rounded the corner, followed by Harry. They were also dressed in costume. Reagan was dressed as Guinevere and Sammy as sir Lancelot in keeping with their yearly tradition of having complementary cross-gendered costumes. Harry, in a strange demonstration of industrial spying, had dressed as King Arthur, hoping as all nerds do that this would help him score big time with his secret crush.

Unfortunately his costume was crappy. He donned a paper crown, a fur-lined bedsheet (probably Hagrid's), a pair of quidditch knee pads and a  
large toy car for his sword.

"Yo….Harry. What's with the ugly car?" Bridgit asked, upon noticing the misshapen old-timey toy vehicle.

"Well, Dumbledore said I couldn't use the Gryffindor sword as Excalibur, so I got this Excalibur model car instead. Go forth mighty Excalibur!" He pulled the car from his belt and made jabbing motions with it in Sammy's general direction. "Vroom! Vroom!"

"That's very…special." Cora tried very, very, very hard to be nice.

"How creative!" Reagan smiled. Harry was pleased. Everything was going according to plan…Hermione's plan.

Only moments later, Snape returned from the bowels of the staircases looking none too pleased.

"You!" He glared at Sammy, the first thing he saw since returning to the light, "twenty points from Ravenclaw!" He snarled in rage.

"Uhhh…okay!" Sammy laughed.

"And another twenty for your attitude!" Snape narrowed his eyes and made a face like he had just swallowed an ugly lemon. Sammy decided to leave before she cost Ravenclaw any more points.

"That's right! Keep running!" Snape shook his fist at Sammy's retreating form.

"Man, if Ravenclaw ever figures out what's going on, they're gonna kill her." Cora whispered to Bridgit as the two giggled.

"And you two!" Snape whirled around, pointing an accusing finger at them, "why are you so happy?"

"Well, we were." Cora muttered.

"Where's the candy?" Bridgit whined.

"There is none!" Snape howled.

"Wah!" Both girls looked sad. Snape allowed himself a small victory smile.

"Well…um, we'll see you guys at the party. Bye." Reagan made a hasty  
retreat.

"Wait for me!" Harry wailed, following him.

After several moments of silence, Snape suddenly turned to Bridgit and Cora.

"Don't you have anything better to do? You know, kids these days seem to find having fun pretty trendy."

"But we have to guard you, silly!" Bridgit smiled. "And as we all know, those two things are mutually exclusive."

"Yeah, no fun for us." Cora looked downcast.

"Well, I don't like you either." Snape snarled.

"But I like you." Bridgit cried. She was then ignored.

"I have to make preparations with the other teachers for the Halloween disgusting merriment, so bugger off!" He then turned sharply and briskly strode down the hallway, his black robes flowing out behind him like a thundercloud.

"Hooray!" Bridgit and Cora cheered. "Free time!"

"Not so fast." Dumbledore rounded a corner, having heard the whole exchange. "Now you need to go guard Harry."

"But I thought we were done with him!" Cora protested most vehemently.

"Nope." Dumbledore smiled merrily, the corners of his eyes crinkling because he was old. "Just because his sleeping body was dumped in the naptime receptacle doesn't mean he's safe."

"But I see bodies go in and never come out. I assumed it was some kind of safe house." Cora was saddened at her wasted inspiration.

"Not bodies, _children_! No one dies at Hogwart's. Wink wink. But seriously don't put live things in there." Dumbledore smiled again.

"You have crow's feet!" Bridgit pointed at his face.

"I traded up from acne!" Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"Yes. Quite." Bridgit turned to her good side and, alongside Cora, quickly ran off with Neville in tow.

"Ow! Stop pulling so hard! It huuuurts!" Neville's voice echoed down the hallway.

"My, my, what a nice compliment to that ensemble." Dumbledore noted upon noticing Mr. Longbottom's retreating figure.

He looked around, noticing that he was the only one in the hallway. His face suddenly split into an impish grin and he grabbed his beard. Pulling it taught, he began to play it like a double bass.

"What are you doing?" He whirled around to see a concerned-looking Professor McGonagall.

"Man, I dig those rag-time blues!" Dumbledore laughed.

"…What?"

"Nothing." Dumbledore hung his head in defeat at his staff member's incurable squareness.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bridgit and Cora, after searching for several minutes, finally came across Sammy and Reagan. Thankfully Harry was not in sight, for they  
were about to discuss…business! Ridding themselves of Neville's prying ears by claiming the decorative plants in the Gryffindor common area had seemed under-watered, they formed a little huddle.

"Okay," Cora began, "we're not watching Snape during the dance. That just wouldn't be cool."

"Whatever do you mean?" Reagan asked.

"Hanging out with teachers is LAME." Bridgit explained in so many words. "Especially mean teachers."

"So what do you want us to do about it?" Sammy demanded.

"We charge YOU with watching him!" Bridgit pointed at her and laughed manically.

"What if I don't wanna?" Sammy countered.

"Okay, we'll do it!" Reagan consented.

"What? Why?" Sammy ached at his betrayal.

"They need a break. He is, after all, very mean and hard to deal with."

"What he said!" Cora agreed.

"Oh fine!" Sammy begrudgingly consented.

"Well then, let's go get ready for the party!" Reagan then skipped merrily down the hallway.

"I am sad." Sammy sighed, jogging after him.

"I'm so excited for the party!" Bridgit jovially jumped up and down. "It's gonna be THIS great!" Bridgit spread her arms to demonstrate and inadvertently hit some Slytherin pantywaist in the head with her hard, metal, temporary third-class lever, metal rod. The kid was knocked down the staircase.

"Wow! It's gonna be an amazing party if that, as you said, is any indication of its awesomeness!" Cora cheered at the injury of the innocent bystander.

"It's a real safety hazard how those staircases appear and move around out of nowhere." She sighed, ignoring the obvious fact that the two of them were in and of themselves a safety hazard of titanic proportions.

"Yeah! What's it been? Like the third person today?" Cora speculated.

"No. Actually it's only been two." Bridgit corrected her friend using her awesome math skills. No. Seriously. They're awesome.

Ron suddenly jogged up to them.

"Hey! Didja hear?" He asked, virtually out of breath.

"No. What did you say?" Bridgit asked.

"The band they're getting for the Hallowe'en party! It's! It's! The Devonshire He-Bansheees!" He was almost as frothy as Snape.

"Yeah. Aren't they Hermione's favorite band?" Bridgit asked, setting up the verbal blow to come.

"Oh. yeah! They are!" Ron pretended to suddenly realize this fact, having no idea what Hermoine's interests were.

"I overheard her saying to the late Parvati Patil that the lead is incredibly ugly, but the guy who plays the triangle is a hot stud muffin made of beefcake." Cora laughed.

"What?" Ron looked sad.

"Yeah, poor Parvati." Bridgit sighed.

"No, no! The band!" Ron shook his head, not caring about the classmate that he wasn't lusting after.

"Actually, she's not dead." Cora whispered to Bridgit.

"Oh yeah." Bridgit giggled. "What a silly mistake!"

"Oh, bother!" Ron sighed, walking off.

"We'd better not follow him or else we'll have to guard Harry." Cora stopped her friend from following Ron.

"Oh yeah! Good call!" Bridgit's face split into a bloody grin. "I ate meatloaf." She offered an explanation.

"What? Alive meatloaf?" Cora looked nervously at Bridgit.

"April fools!" She pulled out a tube of fake blood that tasted like…blood. Cherry blood.

"Wrong holiday." Cora forcibly grabbed Bridgit's arm and lead her down a hallway.

Suddenly, they both tripped over an inconspicuous wire strung across the width of the corridor. Instantly, sixteen (because they were counting) cream filled puffy puffs smushed into the wall.

"Whoops! Sorry about that one!" George magically appeared from a tapestry.

"What happened?" Bridgit asked in confusion.

"And why should I not kill you?" Cora added her two-cent's worth.

"Um." He turned. "April Fools!" He laughed nervously and ran behind the tapestry.

"Not so fast!" Cora leapt to her feet, flung back the tapestry and caught Fred and George red-headed...handed.

"What's going on?" Bridgit peeked curiously in at what they were doing.

"We're setting up a Halloween prank. That one wasn't tuned yet so you tripped it out of its prime." George explained.

"But we're really sorry it almost got you two." Fred lied upon seeing Cora's face going Snape with rage.

"Your prank's kind of…not very good." Bridgit noted, choosing her words delicately.

"Oh really?" George rolled his eyes sarcastically to hide his shame.

"We don't know what's going on! We usually have such great ideas! But now…it's almost like a mid-life crisis." Fred added, although no one had asked him.

"Whoa, whoa, drama queen! It's not that bad!" Cora tried to ease his suffering.

"Well, Cora and I have things floating in our heads that mean stuff!" Bridgit offered.

"You mean ideas?" Cora prompted, noticing Fred and George's blank expressions.

"Really? Do you have any right now?" George asked, using small words.

"Well, it involves some propulsion and some pent-up rage." Bridgit began. The four then converged into a group and the inaudible whispering commenced. We would tell you what they said, but it was inaudible. Then there was laughter. Evil laughter.

"Too perfect!" George rubbed tears from his eyes.

"But we have to be really careful not to leave a trail leading back to us, or we'll get the boots for sure!" Fred reminded them all.

"Well, so as not to arouse suspicion, we should go find and hang out with Harry-"

"Because that's what we usually do!" Cora interjected before Bridgit blew their cover.

"All right. George and I will get the hardware and we'll all meet outside the corridor at eight o'clock because, knowing him, he'll be sitting in his chair the entire time looking like he wants to kill everyone." Fred spelled out the plan.

Cora steepled her fingers. "Excellent."

"We look forward to it!" Bridgit giggled and skipped down the hallway, followed by Cora.

"Ooooh! I can't wait!" Bridgit cackled.

"This will make it all worth while." Cora grinned a grinchy grin. Further evil plotting was circumvented by the sudden realization of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry was kneeling on the floor holding his head, Hermione had a hand on his shoulder in concern and Ron looked very frightened. There was only one thought running through Bridgit and Cora's minds.

"Crap. What'd he do now?"

"What happened, Buddy? Did you run into the wall? Yeah. Those bricks can be pretty solid." Cora opened up discussion. The three looked at them scrutinizingly.

"Should we tell them, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I think we can trust them." Harry climbed painfully to his feet. "My scar hurts."

"I'm sorry, that explanation is lacking certain…explanation." Cora shook her head in confusion.

"Harry's scar always hurts whenever he's around You-Know-Who. The only other time it hurts is when You-Know-Who is planning something bad or being extremely evil." Hermione explained. Bridgit raised her hand.

"What if someone pours boiling water on it?"

"Well, I suppose that would hurt too…" Hermione frowned, clearly annoyed.

"She meant magical hurting!" Cora smacked Bridgit upside the head.

"That smarts!" Bridgit rubbed her head.

"We have to be serious now." Hermione said in a hushed voice. "Something bad is going to happen."

"Well, shouldn't we warn Dumbledore or tell the adults or something like that?" Cora offered a course of action. The three looked at each other.

"No." They said unanimously.

"If there's one thing we've learned, it's that we always win." Harry explained.

"Children are protected by angels." Ron nodded. "It's very scientific, really."

"Well, then what should we do instead?" Cora asked, having nothing to say in response to that statement.

"We have to gather facts. We need to start looking for clues. There have been a number of strange things happening recently. The time you guys were attacked, the Cradillos rampage, and the unusual number of students going missing. They all seem to point to one conclusion: Voldemort is planning to eliminate you exchange students in order to destroy international relations and thus sever Great Britain's ties with a possible ally." Hermione explained.

"…Uh…yes. Goodwill…That's the reason we're here." Bridgit agreed with shifty eyes. "We will help you find facts."

"Yes. Find facts." Cora concurred.

"Well, we passed by Snape's dungeon just a few minutes before you ran into us and we noticed that he had a mangled limb." Hermione related.

"Was it his?" Bridgit pondered.

"Yes. His right arm was a bloody mess. When he has a mangled limb, it usually means that he has been secretly defending the school. So, we think that perhaps he knows more than he is telling." Hermione nodded all-knowingly.

"But you guys haven't spoken to him about it." Cora protested.

"Exactly!" Hermione folded her arms in fierce pride.

"'S far as we can figure, You-Know-Who's after you two." Ron slowly caught up and summarized Hermione's deductions.

"Excuse us for a second." Cora smiled and pulled Bridgit aside.

"What's going on?" Bridgit whispered.

"Well, if the twit's scar hurting means that Voldemort is planning an attack, it's possible he may make a move tonight through the band."

"Right. Because they're the only foreign thing coming into the school. Although it's possible he might not try anything at all and is just planning  
for another occasion." Bridgit countered.

"Still, we have to be on our guard. No risk taking where this is involved. We can't fail at our job." Cora said firmly before they turned to the rest of the group.

"We were discussing. Ponies." Bridgit offered.

"We think that you guys are right." Cora lied. "So what is our course of action?"

"Oh goody! More girls on our side!" Hermione cheered.

"I'll kill you if you try to braid my hair." Cora quietly threatened her.

"We need to snoop around the school. That's usually the best way to overhear or trip over useful information." Ron laid out the battle plan.

"Of course, it's possible that nothing at all will happen tonight, but we can't take any risks." Hermione reasoned.

"I like the way you think." Cora clapped her on the back. The two then emitted a hearty laugh of camaraderie to cover their murderous impulses.

"I'm scared." Bridgit squeaked.

"Onward! To Factopia!" Hermione pointed down the hallway.

"Um. Yes. Onward we go." They all proceeded to walk leisurely on.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Snape's dungeon, said professor put away some strange items he had been using on his "mangled limb".

"I'll show them dressing up." He muttered under his breath. "There. It's finished." He held his arm up to the dim light, turning it this way and that to admire his handiwork.

"That dress up kit was worth the five knuts I paid." He chuckled ominously and headed to the ball to go traumatize little children.


	12. The Monster Mash

**Chapter Twelve: The Monster Mash**

"Surprisingly", the fact-finding mission had turned up absolutely nothing. Not even something insignificant that could have been misinterpreted to  
mean something! They found nothing.

"Wow. We really found nothing." Harry mumbled in surprise.

"Meh. What'cha gonna do about it? Stop moaning and have some fun!" Cora offered. "After all, this IS the coveted Halloween ball that we're at. No squares allowed!"

They were indeed currently at the Halloween ball. The great Hall had been decorated with floating jack-o-lanterns with grinning faces and black candles lined the walls. Enchanted black paper bats fluttered about the festive room and occasionally preformed aerial flips. As an added touch of ambiance, small nooses dangled decoratively from the ceiling hanging cute little dead rats. Filch had out-done himself this year.

Students mingled about in pods and the ones who had not yet been introduced to alcohol were fooled into thinking that they were having fun. Even Bridgit and Cora, stuck with Harry, Ron and Hermoine, seemed to be enjoying themselves as they stuffed wads of candy down their throats. However, right at that moment several Slytherins passed by moving suspiciously, thus nullifying their ease. The Slytherins were snickering and whispering things to each other in evil merriment. The group caught a stray sentence.

"All right. So tonight at-" And the rest was inaudible as they had already passed them by.

"Did you hear that?" Ron leapt to his feet. "They're going to do something at….SOMETHING O'CLOCK!" He cried out.

"We have to stop them!" Hermione pounded her fist into her palm resolutely.

"But…what are they doing?" Bridgit asked the question begging and crying to be asked.

"I…don't know." Harry replied, very Shatner-esque.

"Let's go gang!" Ron hollered, charging after the Slytherin group.

"Okay. Bridgit and I will watch your back." Cora grabbed Bridgit by the arm and the two made their escape.

"We're free!" Bridgit laughed.

Until she saw Snape.

"What do you think of this?" He asked, holding up his arm.

"AGHHHH! Mangled limb!" Bridgit screamed, pointing at Snape's arm.

The entire room looked their way and then erupted in screaming terror at the gory sight. Bridgit held out her hand, palm up.

"Catalyst fee." She explained.

"I will pay no such fee." Snape huffily objected.

"That's some good makeup! No wonder everyone's screaming." Cora laughed heartily pointing at his arm.

"I don't know you." Snape grumbled and went to go sit at the front with the rest of the teachers at the head table.

"Ha ha! Sammy and Reagan have to guard him! Not us!" Bridgit wiped tears of merriment from her eyes.

"I wonder if they're having more luck than we did." Cora pondered aloud.

* * *

Sammy and Snape sat across from each other, eyes locked in an unblinking staring match of mammoth proportions. Reagan tried to break the tension.

"Do you guys want some punch? I'll go get us some punch." He hurried off.

"Slytherin." Sammy said distastefully.

"Ravenclaw." Snape spat.

"English guy." Sammy glared.

"Canadian." Snape hissed.

"Wow…there's some kids by the punch bowl acting really weird." Reagan mentioned, trying to change the subject from being mortal enemies to anything else.

"They're probably just being stupid. They are, after all, Slytherins." Sammy, with set eyes and a deadpan look, mocked her social superior.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw." Snape replied. "Check and mate." Snape grabbed the glass of punch offered by Reagan and took a victory swig. He then coughed and looked at the concoction, completely aghast.

"Whoa…that's strong stuff." His voice was briefly quite hoarse.

"It's just punch! Although I suppose the bubbles in the tonic water would be a bit strong to someone with your constitution." Sammy laughed mercilessly at Snape and took her own victory swig.

She immediately spat it out, unfortunately spraying the good professor.

"Well, apparently more than you can. However, I find this victory fleeting now that I have consumables on my person. I HATE IT WHEN I HAVE CONSUMABLES ON MY PERSON!" Snape roared.

"What's going on guys? This punch tastes pretty good to me." Reagan tossed back the glass, drinking its contents in one swig without so much as the bat of an eyelash.

"What the-? How did you-? That's like proof fifty!" Sammy goggled at Reagan.

"What are you talking about? And why is the room spinning?" Reagan demanded.

"Well, to answer both of your questions, the punch has been spiked!" Snape loudly proclaimed.

At that moment, his chair, with him in it, suddenly lurched from the floor propelled by a large spring, which had previously been coiled. He flew across the room, narrowly missing many pillars, chandeliers and floating pumpkins in a brilliant display of physics. However, just before landing he smashed into one jack-o-lantern and then toppled into a large pile of Puffy Puffs. Reacting with his mangled limb makeup, the Puffy Puff Cremey Puff centers turned blood red.

"ARGHHHHHHH!" Snape roared from within his pumpkin head's confines. He rose from the pile, covered head to toe in blood red Cremey Puff centers. His head was encased in a pumpkin into which was carved a most fearsome expression indeed. He stood amidst the mess of consumables shaking with silent rage. Rage so silent, it frightened all who beheld it.

"When I find out who did this," he deliberately and seethingly announced, "Mister Potter," he added with a look to Harry who was and had been by the punch bowl the whole time, "I am going to-"

"Congratulations, Severus!" Dumbledore quickly walked up to Snape and shook his hand. "You've won the most frightening costume award for scaring the children. And Hagrid."

Hagrid was curled up in ball silently weeping from the corner.

"What? Since when do we have costume contests?" Snape, through pumpkin, looked incredulously at the headmaster.

"Look! We even have a trophy!" Dumbledore deftly dodged having to explain and handed Snape a little trophy.

Snape, who had never won anything in his life because of STUPID James Potter, had a sudden change of heart and snarkily accepted the prize. Striding through the mass of shell-shocked students to return to his seat, Snape passed Bridgit, Cora, Fred and George who were standing in the doorway looking nervous and red-handed. He turned to them, scowling mightily as though he were some kind of pumpkin king.

"Well, Miss Firecatcher, Miss Willowstaff," he began, deliberately choosing his words in supreme malice.

Bridgit and Cora gulped, knowing quite well how many times over he would kill them for this whole fiasco.

"It appears that I have beaten you. Take that! I never dress up for Halloween and I still won the contest! You didn't try hard enough! Ten points from Gryffindor!" He snarled, stomping with mean pride back to the table to take a different, non-modified seat.

"Oh my God." Cora sighed.

"I know. Ten points!" Bridgit shook her head.

"No idiot! Do you have any idea how close we were to being busted?" Cora hissed.

"Well, that was a spot of luck." George offered an understatement, his mouth agape in disbelief.

"We should do this again sometime! You two are naturals!" Fred laughed, patting them both on the back.

"Okay!" Bridgit smiled, instantly cheering up.

"I never did like Trelawney…" Cora proposed a target.

"Nah. She's really hard to prank. She always says it's a fulfillment of some prophecy or other." George sighed.

"We've been trying to get her for years." Fred shook his head in shame.

"We could always just light her room on fire!" Bridgit held up a pack of matches.

Fred and George looked aghast. Even they wouldn't go _that_ far.

"No Bridgit, we can't do that." Cora shook her head. "_Again_!" She smiled sinisterly. "The redundancy would be totally lame!"

"On second thought, we'll call you." Fred offered.

"Okay!" Bridgit smiled vapidly as Cora shook her head.

After watching Fred and George make a hasty retreat, the two girls headed to the punch bowl, unaware of its contents. Suddenly, they tripped en masse for no apparent reason whatsoever. Climbing to their feet, they brushed themselves off to recover their dignity but remained confused.

"How did that happen?" Cora wondered aloud.

* * *

"Yeah! Way to go, Snape!" Reagan cheered, swaying slightly from side to side. He clapped Snape exuberantly on the back, dethroning him to the floor. Reagan then wiped the blood red Puffy Puff Cremey Puff center on to Harry's cardboard crown.

"There you go." He smiled, accidentally wiping his hand down the middle of Harry's face.

"I'll never wash this face again!" Harry sighed.

"POTTER!" Snape exploded. "It was you! You spiked the punch!"

"What? It was obviously the Slytherins! They were going to do something at something o'clock. Do you understand? SOMETHING O'CLOCK!" Ron defended his companion as Hermione prevented anyone from taking any punch from the punch bowl. Especially the faculty.

"Don't lie! You both get detention for two weeks!" Snape bellowed through his orange, jagged mouth.

"Ummm…Reagan…maybe we should go. You seem to be slightly…inebriated." Sammy suggested.

"What're you talkin' about? I'm totally okay to drive." Reagan jabbed his finger repeatedly into her chest.

"C'mon, let's go." Sammy ushered him from the room.

"Aw man!" Cora noticed Sammy removing a very loud Reagan from the ballroom as the He-Banshees began to play "The Monster Mash".

"Well, no more fun for us. See you later Fred and George." Bridgit sighed to two floating jack-o-lanterns whom she had named. She didn't cope with loss well. The pumpkins made no response prompting Bridgit to comment to Cora.

"They seemed so fun before but now they just float there judgmentally. I don't think that we should be friends with them anymore."

"Hmph, we were never friends with those losers!" Cora masked her pain with anger. "Let's get back to the mission."

Passing by the stage, Cora took note of something interesting.

"Wow. This band really DO have a triangle player. Ron must be seething with jealously now thanks to our clever lie." Cora noted using her street grammar.

Suddenly, a mysterious cat flew through the air and hit the triangle player in the head. Said cat then proceeded to maul him.

"Nooooo!" The girls all screamed.

"Agh! My face!" The triangle player screamed.

"What the- how did Crookshanks get here? And how did he manage that jump?" Hermione looked at the scene in confusion.

"Well, you know…some animals can sense evil. Remember Scabbers?" Ron quickly said, discreetly wiping orange fur off of his hand and robes.

"Oh my gosh! Crookshanks saved the day! You do realize that North Darling must have been a secret agent sent in by You-Know-Who to kill everyone! Thank goodness we stopped him!" Hermione suddenly realized. Ron stared at her for several moments.

"Uhhh…yes. Exactly what I was going to say. Now let us never speak of this again." He smiled nervously.

"What are you talking about? We have to tell Harry!" Hermione then bustled off to find Harry.

"Ohhh…why won't you pay attention to me?" Ron pined. He then jogged to catch up to Hermione, tripping once along the way.


	13. That Darn Fudgey

**Chapter Thirteen: That Darn Fudgey**

"Grumble, grumble, grumble." Sammy grumbled.

"Pardonnez moi? Repite s'il vous plait." Cora asked politely, using her mandatory second language skillz.

"I said: GRUMBLE, GRUMBLE, GRUMBLE!" Sammy yelled.

"Oh. Okay." Cora immediately regretted being polite.

It was mid-November and the four were on their way to the first Quidditch  
match of the season. It was Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor and, although Hufflepuff and Slytherin were not participating, they still had to attend. Ha ha! Suckers.

"You're just mad because you're jealous of Fudgey!" Cora pushed Sammy's anger button.

"I am not!" Sammy roared, stopping the people in the hallway as they turned to stare at her. "…We have to go now."

She ran outside, closely followed by Bridgit, Cora and Reagan. Once beyond the confines of the massive school, they slowed to an easy gait and resumed their less than witty conversation.

"Hey!" Bridgit, who had been in her own little world, suddenly graced  
reality with her presence, "I wonder if Fudgey McMuffin is related to Cornelius Fudge!"

"No. The McMuffin clan and the Fudge clan have been bitter blood rivals for generations." Cora, stone faced, shot down Bridgit's theory.

"Oh…really?" Bridgit was slightly put out.

"No. I just made that up!" Cora laughed.

"Stupid McMuffin. His family was probably a hideous by-product of McDonald's advertising campaign." Sammy snickered, more to herself than anyone else.

"I'm surprised at you three! Fudgey's a good guy…probably. You know, once you get to know him. And he must have some redeeming features. Take, for example, how he made the quidditch team!" Reagan came up with some points in his favor.

"THAT MEANS NOTHING!" Sammy and Cora yelled, still bitter at their defeat.

"I liked the shiny thing." Bridgit smiled, not being consumed by rage, yet not cognitively functional.

Further discussion was put on hold as they reached the bleachers and began to climb the stairs to their seats in the Gryffindor bleachers. Bridgit and Cora were relieved for an excuse to not sit by Ron and Hermione. Upon sitting down, Sammy quickly whipped out a Ravenclaw flag, earning extremely angry glances from everyone around them.

"Sammy, where'd you get that thing? Apparently it's like a blue ant in a red ant's domain." Bridgit hissed, not liking the anger so much.

"I have to keep up the ruse or else he'll nail us for points and everyone will kill me." Sammy glanced around in paranoia.

"Who? What are you talking about?" Reagan looked at her, wondering if she was feeling alright.

"Snape." She whispered at a conspiratory level. "He's out to get me."

"You're being paranoid! Just because he deducts points from you at every single interaction you…you know what? You might just be right. Keep away from me!" Cora scooted over to sit next to Bridgit so she wouldn't be caught in Snape's obsessive-compulsive gaze.

"Oh come on! He's not watching now!" Reagan shook his head. "I mean, he does have a life beyond petty spite!"

However, Snape sat among the teachers in the bleachers with a pair of binoculars. He adjusted the little focus knobbies and a crisp image of Sammy swam into view. She was half-heartedly waving her Ravenclaw flag trying not to attract the attention of the Gryffindor students. Snape's hands tightened around the binoculars, his knuckles turning white.

"Damn youuuuu." He hissed under his breath. He then focused the binoculars on Harry and his grip tightened once again.

"Damn youuuuuu!" He repeated, although louder than last time, earning him concerned glances from his peers.

Finally, he let out one last, quiet, "Damn youuuuuu!"

"Well I never!" McGonagal huffed, sitting right beside him. "Get those binoculars out of my face, Severus, before I sever your crystal balls." She frostily narrowed her eyes.

"What? Oh. I get it. That was rather lewd." Snape focused elsewhere.

"Did someone say crystal balls?" Trelawney awoke from her coma to pop up between the two. "On a completely unrelated note, it seems that there is a plague of clumsiness overtaking the school."

Professor McGonagal nodded in agreement. "For once I am in agreement with you, Sybill. I myself have tripped over nothing at least three times today. See?" She rolled up her sleeve to reveal a Sponge Bob Square Pants Band-aid. All of the faculty stared at it in awe, letting out a collective,

"Ooooooooo!"

"And since it follows your prediction it can't possibly be due to my age or failing eyesight. That doctor doesn't know what he's talking about. Damn hippy." McGonagall finished with mucho anger.

"Well, Minerva, it seems you are not as square as I initially thought." Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"Shows how much you know! It's hip to be square." She pointed at the cartoon character. "Dig it?"

"Oh…I'm no longer with it. I am saddened by my roundness." Dumbeldore sighed.

"Yes! The plague of clumsiness is just as I predicted. Me. Sybill Trelawney!" Trelawney piped up. Everyone turned to look at her, saddened that she was talking.

"C*loser*ough!" Someone coughed.

"Yes! The Garden of the Silver Wedding was all burned except for its sou'westerly quarter. And in this quarter, the only section left unscathed was the path of chrysanthemums and chrysanthemums, as you all know, are the flowers of clumsiness! The Weasley child foretold this before even I was aware of it. He is very gifted." Trelawney said proudly.

"Yes…gifted." Snape muttered. "If by gifted you mean special and by special you mean stupid, then I agree."

"I will not address such an ignorant man." Trelawney sighed. "And to think I was considering you for a husband."

"Guh- WHA-?" Snape looked terrified and lost the ability to speak.

Professor Flitwick fainted from the mere thought of being at that wedding. Snape, also not having a favorable reaction, sat stone faced, gripping the arms of his chair and staring straight ahead, mouth silently flapping in horror. Professor McGonagall erupted into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. She had to be carried out so that the students would stop staring.

In the meantime, the game had started. After Madame Hooch had tripped and then released the balls, the chaos that was Quidditch erupted in all its violent glory.

"Kill him! Kill him! Oh come on, you pansy!" Cora screamed at the top of  
her lungs.

"See? Fudgey is a really good keeper!" Reagan pointed out, as Fudgey had  
defended twelve goals successfully.

"Yeah, but that's because he's so big he takes up half the net!" Sammy  
exclaimed.

"Sammy!" Reagan was affronted.

"But it's true! Look." Bridgit offered her binoculars. Reagan looked through them and went silent. As the quaffle flew towards the Gryffindor net, Fudgey blocked it with his belly and it bounced back and hit the offending Ravenclaw player in the face.

"Yes, but look how skillfully he defends the net." Reagan searched for  
something nice to say.

"I know why Trex sent you to be a diplomat, but I still haven't figured why she's here." Cora pointed at Sammy.

"You're not going to be the leader anytime soon, so drop it already!" Sammy whacked her over the head with her Ravenclaw flag, breaking it in half.

"All right!" A random Gryffindor child exclaimed."Great idea!" He took the Ravenclaw flag and burned it as a sort of effigy. Sammy's lower lip quivered.

"I paid nine sickles for that." She moaned as the Gryffindor spawn danced around the flames in a very Lord of the Flies manner.

Five minutes later, Harry suddenly dived towards the hard, hard ground in an almost suicidal manner. However, he pulled neatly out of the dive, golden snitch in hand.

"Yay! We won." The four pretended to cheer.

However, the Gryffindor children were no longer paying attention, having  
succumbed to the will of their id.

"Come! Let us cast off this hierarchy of everyone being better than us and live in harmony with the evil, evil woods!" One of the children, having retained conscious, if not intelligent thought, yelled. He was propelled to leader status as they all charged into the woods screaming and throwing things at other people.

"Aw damn. Now we have to go round them up. What a bother." Professor  
Flitwick, having recovered from his plight, sighed.

As the bleachers cleared the teachers all headed into the woods to stop the stupid children. All except for Professor Snape. He remained in his chair long after the arena had become deserted. Still gripping the arms of his chair in a strength born of terror, he remained seated, moving his mouth as though he was speaking.

* * *

"I can't believe my flag is ruined." Sammy, ever cheap, quietly moaned.

"I can't believe you started a revolution." Cora smiled in approval.

"I can't believe it's not butter!" Bridgit was licking away at an iced margarine popsicle.

"While I applaud the British Magical School System in their attempts to make children's food options healthier, I have to say that this was perhaps not the best execution." Reagan shook his head, secretly glaring at the Margey-Pop™ vendor.

"Why, hello there ladies!" Came a heavy, self-assured voice.

They all turned to behold a sweaty lump of a boy on a broom. At least…they were pretty sure it was human.

"Hi?" Sammy raised her eyebrow in confusion. She usually openly shunned Fudgey at practice, so his attempts to talk to them was bewildering.

"So, didja see me?" He smiled proudly.

"How could I not?" Sammy made a jab at his obesity.

Bridgit and Cora chuckled while Reagan tried to spare his feelings, "You played really well today, Fu-"

"I like less talk in my women." Fudgey cut him off.

"Well, that's lucky for both of us because, you see, I'm really a-"

Reagan's attempts to clear up the question of his gender were not to be.

"That's nice, sweetcakes. One day your prince will come." Fudgey waved dismissively.

"That's my friend." Sammy gave Fudgey a pointed glance.

"That's really big of you!" Fudgey smiled, then leaned in close to whisper, "she's not much of a looker. She should look into waxing...or paper bags."

"No…how big of you." Sammy muttered angrily. "So anyway, did you **want** something?"

"Maybe after a couple of dates! BA FWA FWA FWA FWAAAA! No, my little luxury yacht, that will be for another voyage." He winked.

The four stared at him, obviously confused as to how he hadn't been held back yet.

"You ladies are so shy. Hope to see you at the next game."

"Well, they _are_ mandatory and since murder is illegal, I guess so." Cora smiled, clearly homicidal.

Reagan, red-faced, said nothing.

"So…I think there's some turkeys in the locker room that aren't butchered yet." Bridgit offered.

"Hot damn! I'll see you broads later. Especially you, my little love house elf." He gave Sammy a skeezy eyebrow raise.

"I'm dead on the inside." Sammy responded.

"Awesome!" Fudgey took off for his after-game meal of raw, whole turkeys.

"Fudgey and Sammy sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love, then comes marriage, then the tree breaks because Fudgey's the size of a fridge!" Bridgit and Cora amazingly sang at the same time.

"I'll kill you both in your sleep." Sammy, quite reasonably, replied.

Sammy looked back at Reagan, who was uncharacteristically silent in the face of Bridgit and Cora rudely teasing someone. His face was set in a very stern expression. Sammy felt her heart jump in surprise as he turned that intense gaze onto her.

"Reagan?"

He pulled her into a firm hug, assuming Sammy had been unduly upset at being spoken to in that way. Sammy, assuming Reagan had been upset by Fudgey's insults, awkwardly patted his back while pretending she wasn't blushing.

"There there." They said at the same time.

"So, I'm bored now." Cora gave the two a pointed glance.

"I know! Let's go on a panty raid, sew them all together, and replace the castle's tapestries!" Bridgit smiled.

"Awesome!"

The two ran off, leaving Sammy and Reagan in their awkward friend-ish hug.


	14. Prelude to Deluge

**Chapter Fourteen: Prelude to Deluge**

"So, would you classify this as a non-magical creature, or a magical creature?" Professor Summersong continued her lecture, pointing to a picture of a reindeer.

"How about a made-up creature?" Malfoy sniffed, eyeing the image dubiously.

"Shows what you know, moron!" Cora snickered. "I know the answer because Trex runs a reindeer farm as a second job because teachers are so impoverished in our country!" Cora crossed her arms over her chest proudly. Everyone was staring at her.

"Right…I don't think that's something to be proud of." Hermione whispered to her.

"Right, now if you would be so kind as to pay attention to the lecture instead of talking amongst yourselves," Professor Summersong brought their attention back to the lesson, "I am still waiting for an answer to my question."

Bridgit raised her hand.

"They're reindeer. All they do is snort, eat and poop. I wouldn't call that magical. Especially not since they bite." She scowled darkly, remembering Trex's black sheep of the reindeer, Skippy, who had bitten her on several occasions during their "educational" trips to the farm (actually, child labour trips. Trex couldn't afford real help.)

"They're magical creatures!" Violet piped up. "They live in the North Pole and every year they fly around the planet to deliver gifts to good girls and boys. Last year, I got a My Little Pony. Her name was Ring-a-ling."

"It's not a surprise you don't know what reindeer are. You probably don't get any presents from Santa Clause." Harry made a silent verbal jab at Malfoy.

"Yeah, I don't know about some fake guy who delivers stupid presents. I get_real_ presents from _real_ parents. You know…the kind that aren't dead and don't hate me. I don't have to make anyone up." Malfoy shot back.

The room went silent. Harry started to rise from his seat, looking like he was about to show Malfoy the wrong side of a girl fight. Professor Summersong sighed, as every class usually seemed to erupt in some kind of chaos.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I would remind you that you are in class right now and if you don't want to make up the time you are wasting, kindly shut it. Mr. Malfoy, it is irrelevant whether or not you are a real boy with real parents, as that is not today's topic. And whether or not people get presents from silly fairy tales, Mr. Potter, is also not what we are discussing."

"He is so real!" Violet wailed.

"I re-iterate, that is not the topic of today's discussion. We are trying to determine whether this creature here," She pointed at the picture rather fiercely, breaking her stick, "is magical or not."

"I realize the wizarding world in Britain takes many commonplace things as impressive, I hardly think anyone here would consider pooping magical." Bridgit answered yet again.

"I don't understand, this seems like something we'd be learning in Care of Magical Creatures." Hermione announced her befuddlement.

"That is very perceptive of you, Miss Grainger, but also where the misunderstanding of these creatures comes from. You see, it is by definition neither magical nor non-magical. These creatures, although they possess the ability to fly, cannot use magic." Her statement caused waves of uncertainty to reverberate throughout the room.

"But if they're non-magical, then how can they fly?" Parvati, not dead as rumors would have you believe, was unable to contain her question.

"Their ability to fly is not natural, but comes from an environmental factor. Can anyone tell me what this ability has resulted from?" She turned to face the class. Not surprisingly, Hermione was the only one who raised her hand.

"Don't they live near the North Pole on a chain of remote islands that were the site of the ancient great magical War of the Granny Smith Apple?"

"Very good, Miss Grainger. Ten points for Gryffindor." Professor Summersong beamed. "The battle over whose wizard hat was the biggest was very intense. On the 99th day of their ferocious battling, the famous Grimshaw Explosion contaminated the florae at its focal point. It is still contaminated by mass amounts of magical fallout to this very day. The ability for reindeer to fly is something that they achieve by eating the moss and lichens from this area. Had they been raised elsewhere, they would not possess the magic of flight."

"Oh God, they can fly?" Bridgit, still thinking about reindeer poop, was horrified.

"Why is this in the curriculum? This rubbish seems like something the Canadians should be learning. They might need one to run their government." Malfoy sneered.

Bridgit and Cora went silent in shame, knowing full well that a reindeer would be an improvement. Spurred on by Malfoy's comment, several other Slytherins jeered and hissed in support.

"Go back home, Canuks." One whispered.

"Don't infect us with your stupid reindeer brains." Another obviously not so bright Slytherin added.

"What did I say about talking? Ten points from Slytherin and another ten for verbal abuse." She deducted the points, much to Harry's delight. "And to answer your question, Mr. Malfoy, at this time of year, the _Rangifer volatilis tarandus_ become very territorial and are migrating to spend the rest of the winter season in Greenland. Some have even been seen as far as Norway. They have been known to attack anyone they come across, especially those flying on brooms. The annual death toll is twelve, as no one has been taught about them, so now it is in the curriculum guidelines as  
a mandatory topic. Since they are extremely agile and quick, generally magic is the only defense. So, today we will be learning how to defend against a flying reindeer." She paused, steeling herself for what she had to say next.

"And since we don't have any reindeer, we will have to combat this pair of antlers." She held up very dead and dry antlers. Bridgit shuddered.

"Whoa. I just had the hugest feeling of déjà vu! That was totally like when Trex has to find teaching supplies from the dumpsters behind KwikCopy." She whispered to Cora.

"I know what you mean." Cora sighed.

"And to give it a feeling of viciousness, I have given them a body on this stuffed beaver." She tied them to a suspiciously familiar beaver.

"Hey! We gave that to McGonagall as a token of our good will!" Bridgit sprang out of her seat, suddenly recognizing it.

"Umm…yes. I actually asked her to borrow it for this particular exercise and didn't find it in the trash at all." Professor Summersong smiled.

"Oh, okay." Bridgit sat back down.

"In order to simulate the broom flying experience, I have cast a levitation spell on it and placed a fan in front of the broom." She set it all up.

"Now, there is not any particular spell to defend against it, so feel free to use your imagination so long as it does not destroy any of the props. Okay! Who wants to go first? How about you?" She pointed to Seamus, who wasn't important enough to have his last name remembered.

"Right then, it'll be a cinch." He stood up from his desk and climbed onto the levitating broom.

"Now, to simulate the speed of a reindeer attack, I have tied a string to our reindeer and will release it like a pendulum from up here." She climbed up a ladder to a series of pulleys that held the "reindeer" in place.

"Are you ready, Mr. O'Toole?" She called down to him.

"What? That's not my last name." Seamus whimpered.

Professor Summersong hurled the beaver at him as hard as she could. It hit Seamus in the midriff and knocked him off the broom. He lay on the floor, staring in confusion at the ceiling.

"You must not waver in your concentration. They are sentient and have been known to purposely distract people in order to catch them off guard, knock them out of the sky and then trample them to death." She explained the morbid ending of stupid people. "You, Mr. O'Toole, are now dead."

Hermione raised her hand,

"Wouldn't the person on the broom die from the fall before being trampled?" She inquired.

"People are generally quick-witted enough to cast a levitation spell, so the reindeer make extra sure they finish the job. And I do believe that you have volunteered to go next, yes?"

"Okay!" Hermione smiled brightly, getting ready to show off.

"Right then, Miss Grainger. Now that you are on the broom, are you ready?" Professor Summersong inquired.

"Ready." Hermione said.

"Well, that's too bad. They attack without warning."

"Oh, well, I could be less ready if you wanted!" Harmione offered, coming up with the quick response thanks to her +2 in brown nosing.

"Too late. You fail!" She hurled the reindeer at Hermione.

"No! _Acu figere globules_!" Hermione shouted in panic. An invisible barrier smashed against the beaver, deviating it from its path chosen by physics. It missed her by a lot and spun out of control, getting all tangled up in its wires.

"Do I really fail?" Hermione asked faintly.

"No, Miss Grainger, I was merely trying to distract you." Professor Summersong offered comfortingly. "Good job. You may return to your seat." Hermione hurriedly resumed her seat, obviously pleased with herself.

"Who's next?" Professor Summersong asked cheerfully while untangling the  
wires. "How about you, Mr. Longbottom? You look terrified. Let's give it a go, eh?" Neville squeaked in fright as a response. "Ah, I'm just kidding. Mr. Malfoy, you're up!"

"Hey! That's what they say in baseball!" Bridgit exclaimed. "Like in little league!"

"Yes, that's all well and good, you great dirty mud wizard." Malfoy muttered under his breath.

"What does that even mean?" Cora whispered to Hermione.

"As far as I know, he made it up. It's not very imaginative, but I suppose that for him it's pretty good." Hermione sighed. "This is the appalling downside of inbreeding."

"Well, at least he has a nice ass!" Cora grinned.

Malfoy climbed aboard the broom and took out his wand with a rather bored expression on his face.

"Oh my, it seems Mr. Potter has just won another trophy." Professor Summersong drawled as she released the "reindeer".

"Hah! Potter." Malfoy spat contemptuously. "I won't be fooled by that!_Saxificus_!" Repelled by a surge from his wand, the "reindeer" suddenly stopped moving and turned to stone.

"See? If you're going to do it, at least do it right." Malfoy crowed. "And you're bloody damn right I have a nice ass!" He gave Cora a venomous look.

A creaking of wood suddenly distracted any thoughts running through anyone's minds regarding the ass of one Mr. Malfoy, thus spawning a new collective thought: _What's that? Could it be…?_

With a resounding snap, the system supporting the "reindeer" collapsed under its weight and Malfoy tumbled from the ceiling, followed by a good chunk of heavy wood framework destined for an identical location. About to be crushed by this very pulpy death, Malfoy was saved in good time by Professor Summersong, who cast a levitation spell.

"It was a fine idea, Mr. Malfoy. Unfortunately, not for the system we had been provided with. However, it is not our intention to kill the reindeer, but to defend ourselves. Now, our reindeer didn't shatter because the fall wasn't very high, but in a real situation it would have died." She lectured.

"Who cares? Everyone for themselves. All's fair in war and war." Malfoy spouted idiocy.

"That's nice. Well, I suppose that is all for today so I shall let you out early under the expectation that you will prepare a spell for class tomorrow. With that said, class dismissed." She turned to try to lift the stone creature from the floor with little success. As everyone headed out of the room, Bridgit and Cora, for some reason on the same wavelength, approached the front of the room to help Professor Summersong lift up their now stone gift.

"Thank you, ladies." She sighed in frustration. "I suppose I shall have to have Professor Snape concoct a reversal potion for this condition. We can't be knocking children off of brooms with large stone objects hurtling at huge velocities, now can we?" She mused, secretly wishing she could.

"Depends on who it's aimed at." Cora joked.

"Well, at any rate it'll make a nice lawn ornament." Bridgit tried to look on the bright side.

"Say, would you girls mind helping me with a small project since you seem to have some free time? I have some sixth year papers I need to grade and I haven't had the time to complete it."

"Well, I guess so." Cora replied. Bridgit nodded, still on the same wavelength, feeling that that was preferable to studying and guard duty.

"Well, you see I ordered this ancient fossil of the extinct Krayt dragon which I would like to construct and hang from the ceiling in order to strike fear into the hearts of students. It is a relatively useful teaching tool." She gave a wry smile.

"I like the way you think!" Cora cheered.

"But…but…think of the children!" Bridgit wailed.

"I am."

"Oh, I get it! Okay!" Bridgit smiled.

"Excellent. Thank you both so much. The bones are in the other room. If you need any help, I'll be in here marking papers." She went to go sit at her desk.

"No problem!" Cora shouted as she ran into the other room, Bridgit on her heels. They just about crashed into a large open crate full of bones.

"Yikes! I almost got skewered by a rib." Bridgit narrowly avoided certain impalement.

"Here are the instructions!" Cora picked up a piece of paper the size of a city map. "Let's see…well, first we take one of these bitty bits and put it into one of these circular bits like this." She demonstrated as she spoke.

"It's not that hard! Kind of like Lego ™."

"But I never follow the instructions for Lego™. I always make my own castles." Bridgit eyed the accursed instructions warily.

"Yeah, that's why they turned out ugly." Cora sighed, explaining this yet again. "Here. I'll read the instructions and you do what I tell you."

"No way. You suck at telling me what to do. Why do you think you're last choice for leader?" Bridgit objected. "I mean, "bitty bits"? What the hell is that supposed mean?"

"I am NOT last choice for leader! You're just delusional from the stresses of hard labor. Speaking of which: get cracking!"

"It isn't hard labor! It's just a puzzle! I give coherent instructions. Gimme that and we'll finish this faster than you and your "bitty bits"." Bridgit snatched at the paper.

"You can't have the instructions! They're beyond your simple mind." Cora tugged back at them.

"Simple mind? Look, I may not run around screaming at people like you do, but that doesn't mean I'm simple, just that I'm reasonable!" Bridgit tried to shove Cora out of the way.

"Well, I'm not so sure about that! Remember the time you got trapped in the well, only it was a stage prop?"

"Oh yeah? Well what about your mole people?" Bridgit shot back.

"They're real!" Cora yelled.

"No! They're fictional! Just like your brain! You only wish they existed because then your life would have meaning!" Bridgit pulled even harder, the edges tearing a bit.

"Okay! That's it. Now the gloves are off!" Cora, instead of pulling on the map, shoved Bridgit bodily towards a pile of molars. Bridgit managed to maintain her grip, but was now hanging onto the instructions, causing it to tear further.

"You're gonna rip it!" Cora snapped.

"No, **you're** going to rip it!" Bridgit replied.

Cora shifted herself so that she could bear Bridgit's weight and manage to kick her at the same time. Standing on a shoulder blade with one foot for balance, she started kicking Bridgit lightly in the face, more as a gross out tactic than as one of brute force.

"Oh! I just remembered that I stepped in Fang's droppings today on the way to care of magical creatures, so I washed it off in the _toilet_!" Cora giggled as she wiggled her foot in front of Bridgit's face.

"Argh! Gross! Get that outta my face!" Bridgit squirmed, trying to bite Cora's hand.

"I'm sorry. What did you say? I can't hear you. I can't hear people who are _stupid_." Cora cocked her head to one side.

"Wah! I'm not stupid, just ditzy! I'll show you!" Bridgit cried defiantly while realizing that Cora's load-bearing foot was on the shoulder blade bone.

With mighty might born of malice, Bridgit kicked the shoulder blade out from under Cora, causing her to fall over. However, Bridgit was then unable to maintain her grip on the instructions, which went flying through the air only to land with a plop in a small fish tank…full of acid!

"You idiot! You made it fall into the acid tank!" Cora accused her friend. "Quickly! Fish it out before it dissolves!"

"What?" Bridgit raised her eyebrow. "I'm not that stupid!"

"Wargh! Why does she even have a tub of acid?" Cora pined.

"For the acid monster, stupid!" Bridgit answered.

"Acid monster? That sounds just plain juvenile. Now who's stupid?" Cora crowed.

Suddenly, an ugly, shriveled brown head popped out of the acid. The thing had fourteen (because they were counting) eyes and sharp, spiny little teeth. It emitted a very strange cackle.

"Gak gak gak gak gaaaaak!" It then grabbed the instruction leaflet and ate what was left of it.

"Grrrrzzzzzzfluflu!" It hissed, then plopped back beneath the surface of the acid.

"You are." Bridgit replied.

"Great! Now we have no map!" Cora growled.

"You mean instructions." Bridgit sighed.

"I don't like your attitude." Cora narrowed her eyes.

"Well, in terms of skeletons they're pretty straightforward to put together. One thing can only go inside one other thing. In the end, it's foolproof. Let's just play it by ear because we can't leave Harry alone for too long."

"We're watching Snape now, stupid!" Cora pointed out.

"Thank you, captain obvious." Bridgit sighed.

"Well, clearly it wasn't obvious, otherwise you wouldn't have gotten it wrong." Cora shot back.

"Fine. Whatever. Let's just get this done."

"Are you girls okay in there?" Professor Summersong called from the other room, five minutes too late.

"Yes!" The two chorused back.

"Just peachy." Cora added between clenched teeth.

"I'll be fine when I introduce her to the acid monster." Bridgit growled.

"Well, it sounds to me like you're fighting!" Professor Summersong called back.

"We're not fighting!" They both screamed.

"Coulda fooled me, but okay!" Professor Summersong ignored the fact that they were lying. "But I won't let a certain two young ladies leave that room, even if they finish putting together the skeleton, if I think they're still fighting!"

"Can she do that?" Bridgit asked Cora quietly.

"Yes I can!" Professor Summersong answered.

"Eeep!" Cora squeaked and the two quickly began their labor.

In a scurry and flurry of random bones, Bridgit and Cora spent the next half hour digging rapidly through and piecing together whatever bones they could lay their hands on. By the end, they were left with one tiny little bone. Sweaty and weary, they didn't really care where it went.

"Naaaaa….let's put it…there!" Cora slapped it on the end of one of the  
toes. "It's beautiful now!" She smiled.

"We did a good job!" Bridgit smiled. "Hooray for teamwork!" They gave each other a high five.

"So girls, how's it go-…ing." Professor Summersong gaped at the completed  
skeleton.

It was, in reality, a monstrosity or a crime against nature. Take your pick. The thing towered six meters tall and was certainly not what it was supposed to look like. Sticking out of its eye sockets were two long wings with fingernails at the end of them. Its legs were placed at seemingly random intervals, looking out of place along the now snake-ish body. At the end of the tail were any remaining bones they hadn't found a place for. It was certainly something to instill fear in others. Professor Summersong smiled. It was perfect.

"Why, this is even better than it was supposed to be! Good job, ladies."

"Hooray!" The two jumped up.

"Thank you so much for your help. I really appreciate it. Have a good evening." She smiled and returned to marking the papers.

"We would be having a good evening." Bridgit muttered.

"Except that now we have to guard Snape." Cora finished.

"Well, you girls are in for a treat, then! I hear that tonight he's pickling the salmon gonads for tomorrow's class!" They both stared at her in forced smiles, trying to contain their horror.

"Just kidding!" She laughed.

"Oh." They breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's actually dissecting slugs to collect their puss, I'm sorry to tell you." She admitted.

"Oh…that sucks." Cora moaned.

"Don't worry, it'll only be for a few hours. After all, today is our bi-monthly Monopoly game…AND I'M GOING TO WIN!" Sighing, the two left in considerably worse spirits. They weren't at all surprised that Snape would use their mandatory guarding duties as an excuse to make them work. It made them homesick for Trex.

Just as they had walked but a few steps from Professor Summersong's class, they encountered Sammy, Reagan, Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, hey guys." Bridgit gave a half-hearted greeting.

"Where were you two? We were looking for you everywhere!" Sammy growled.

"We were building a bone monster!" Cora said proudly.

"And it turned out even better than if we had done it properly!" Bridgit nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't wanna know." Sammy shook her head.

"While you were gone, Harry had another scar attack." Reagan explained.

"I think that this is a serious indication that something is up. There was an agent at the Halloween ball and, since You Know Who's secret plot didn't succeed, it's likely that there will be a second attempt at the Yule ball." Hermione explained, neglecting to offer the path her logic had taken.

"Blimey! I forgot. I still need a date for the Yule Ball!" Ron clapped his face against his hand, ignoring everything else that Hermione had said.

"Ron! How can you think of such a thing at a time like this?" Hermione asked in horror.

"Will you go with me, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Okay." Hermione quickly answered.

Realizing that they had neglected to do this as well, Harry and Sammy inhaled deeply, preparing to ask Reagan before the other could. However, Harry and Reagan were both suddenly smashed aside by the wide, wide girth of…Fudgey McMuffin!

"Hey Sammy." He began, "Would you like to go with me to the Yule Ball? I think you're mighty swell and would be a good compliment to me."

"What? No! You disgust me and I would sooner have you boiled in fish guts and served to me on a platter than go on a date with you!" Sammy fumed.

"Oooh, spicy! I like that. I'll see you at eight." Fudgey strode off with a sweep of his cape.

Sammy was not used to her caustic tongue having the opposite effect of what she intended. "Okay?"

Harry and Reagan emitted strained choking sounds from the floor. They were sounds of disbelief and horror. Fudgey McMuffin had asked Sammy to the Yule ball and she had accepted. Well, sort of.


	15. Pre Yule Ball MADNESS!

**Chapter Fifteen: Pre-Yule Ball MADNESS!**

Squish! Went the knife as it jabbed into the back of a rather large slug. Slurp! Went its guts as they were wrenched out. Splat! Went the puss as it was slapped into a large metal pan.

"ARGH!" Went Bridgit as she accidentally squirted slug juice in her eye.

"Get it out! Where's the eye wash station?"

"We don't have one." Snape grinned.

"Do you want to injure your students?" Cora demanded angrily.

"Only if it's permanent. Unfortunately, slug juice doesn't make you go blind or cause any other serious maladies or deformities."

"Oh, how disappointing this must be for you." Cora shook her head, not in the least bit impressed. "The CSA would have your guys' asses on a platter."

"I don't know what that is. I don't care either. Get back to work while I drink my strawberry pina colada daiquiri with little umbrellas and red hots." Snape continued nursing his girly drink to end all girly drinks.

"Just because your life is a failure is no reason to feel bad!" Bridgit offered some consolation.

"What did you say?" Snape demanded.

"Uhmmm…I said…were you looking forward to the Yule Ball?" Bridgit tried to cover her ass.

"No. I'm not. The children are acting like such fools at this time of year. I would rather everyone died. That would be the best Christmas present ever." Snape paused, almost wistful for a moment.

"Nehhhhh….you're joking right?" Cora smiled nervously.

"Yes. Joking." Snape looked deadpan as his imagined heaven was interrupted.

"My best Christmas present would be-"

"At least I don't have to worry about you two being so idiotic. No one would date you." Snape talked over Bridgit.

"-and I want a- Hey!" Bridgit clicked on what Snape had said.

"For your information, I already have a date. Beats your one imagined date ever!" Cora shot back.

"She was worth ten times any of the men who would ever go out with YOU!" Snape hissed.

Cora was stunned into silence. She hadn't intended to hit any sort of mark.

"Please don't fight!" Bridgit held up her desiccated slug in a gesture of peace. "I have a date, too, Mr. Snape, so don't be angry and don't be  
hating on us."

"It's professor! I didn't spend two years in a potion factory just to be a stupid "MR." Snape! And I'll have you know- you have a date?" Snape reeled at this sudden revolting revelation. "I could understand her threatening someone into taking her out, but how did you manage to find a date?"

"Well, it's not like I was so dazzling some lunatic tried to sweep me off my feet."

"Clearly." Cora gave her a mean smile and Snape secretly approved.

"He's a little shorter than the other guys and doesn't have a very high place in the school Peking order. I think he asked me out just so he could have a date and I don't mind. I think it would mean a lot to him for me to pretend he isn't hideous." Bridgit smiled kindly.

"Sounds like a match made in heaven." Snape muttered.

"When did this happen?" Cora spluttered.

"Oh. Yesterday when I was throwing mud all over the castle interior I heard this sound behind me and turned around to find him cleaning it up! He's so concerned about the school environment. It's almost sweet. He really doesn't have to." She laughed at the memory. "I would have gotten in so much trouble if Filch had caught me! But he asked me out instead of telling on me."

"Your story is both mundane and repulsive. Get back to work." Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. He was starting to consider that free labour in his general vicinity was too high a price to pay where these two were concerned.

"Man…my period is really….perioding this month." Cora stated in an off-handed sort of disinterest.

"Oh, my!" Snape cocked his ear to one side. "Do I hear someone, likely a Mr. Potter, wandering the corridors after hours?"

"It's five o'clock." Bridgit looked at him confusion.

"Right! Right…Only I'm pretty sure that he's carrying an illegal stash of pilfered potions ingredients!" He shouted, pointing randomly out the door. "Garrrgh! Damn that Potter!" Snape quickly made his exit before he had to hear anything else about lady issues. There were some things that potions couldn't cure…and that was being a woman. What a horrible, horrible deformity.

"Okay, so what was that all about?" Bridgit turned to Cora when she was certain Snape was out of earshot. "Because I'm pretty sure that felt humiliating for everyone."

"Well do you know what really _is_ humiliating? Unlike you, I don't actually have a date!" Cora admitted.

"So? It's not like you need one." Bridgit sighed. "I only said yes to my mysterious stranger because it seemed to be an important cultural thing for him. I think he's an exchange student. Isn't it great that we have so much in common? Besides, it's really not a big deal for you and I."

"Well it is now!" Cora snapped, picking the lock to Snape's potion ingredients cupboard. "I can't let stupid Grinchy be right!"

"I always thought that he somewhat resembled the Grinch." Bridgit laughed. "But what are you looking for in there anyway? His shrunken heart?" She continued as Cora cracked the cupboard open, "A loooooove potion?"

"No! I have a plan. And it's better than that!"

"What is it?" Bridgit perked up.

"Hermione told me about it on one of her educational rants, so now I have an idea so brilliant that I cannot reveal it to anyone until after I do what I'm planning to do!" Cora cackled.

"That embarrassing, huh?"

"No! It's brilliant! It's mine! I'm the leader!" Cora panted, recovering from her brief excursion to Crazyville.

"You'd better shut the cupboard, it sounds like he's coming back." Bridgit noticed the sound of footsteps.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you'd best think again before stealing my cupboard ingredients." They heard Snape's approaching voice as Cora managed to shut it and stuff some ingredients in her boots.

"But Professor! You don't understand. The survival of the entire school as we know it depends on-"

"I seriously doubt the fate of the school rests on your petty acts of thievery!" Snape cut him off. "Now you have detention! You get to spend the  
rest of the evening with these two lovely ladies and their periods as you all DISEMBOWEL SLUGS!" A vein bulged from his forehead, a direct result of his misogyny.

"But professor, I thought you said we could leave!" Bridgit was sad.

"Oh yes…right…I lied." He cackled. "Well, I'm off to the faculty bi-monthly Monopoly game." He paused a moment to glare at Cora. "And this time I will be victorious, despite your efforts of petty sabotage!" He screamed, spittle flying from his crooked teeth. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room and they could hear him long afterward laughing at their chore, which he had made up.

"So…do either of you have a date to the Yule Ball?" Harry turned to both of them.

"Yes."

"Oh…." He sighed and picked up a puss harvesting knife.

"I can't wait for the Yule Ball." Cora guffawed, stabbing the nearest slug with much gusto. Bridgit could only wonder in mild intrigue what her friend was up to as slug body parts flew all over the interior of Snape's classroom.

* * *

"Damn it! Just DRINK IT!" Cora screamed. There were some gurgling and choking noises from behind a thick wooden door.

"Gah! No! What did you do to me? What did you make me drink?" A horror-struck, unmistakably male voice cried in despair.

"Excellent…everything is going according to plan." Cora laughed. There was a soft buzzing noise and then she spoke again,

"This one is for Reagan!" Cora shouted. From behind the door, there was a blood-curdling scream…and then there was no more.

* * *

"Isn't this fun? Man, I love Yule Balls! It's a good thing that we decided not to go as couples and could go as friends!" Harry laughed, arms over Ron and Hermione's shoulders as he forced himself in between them.

"Yes…very nice." Ron grumbled. "You know, I hear Violet's date got sick." Ron offered, looking hopeful.

"Don't be silly, Ron! They're both right over there!" Harry pointed to Violet and her date, who were both unfortunately within visual range.

"Oh…so he is." Ron sighed.

Reagan tittered, watching Harry from a few feet away, standing in a group consisting of Bridgit, Fred, Angelina, George and Neville.

"Tee hee! Harry's quite the third wheel." Reagan watched avidly, much like when he watched his stories.

"Well, you are watching a loser, so think about that." Bridgit pointed out.

"I almost feel bad for the little brother." Fred shook his head.

"But not too bad." George added, which was why Bridgit and Cora liked him better.

The assembled group stood within a festive as hell Great Hall sipping eggnog. The massive tables were sleigh-shaped and loaded up with holiday food including, but not limited to, reindeer sausage and Santa's Pudding. (This pudding was a tradition dating as far back as Santa's use of elves. When they became sick or too old to work, they would be ground up and made into an authentic northern pudding. It tasted vaguely of sadness.) Most students were milling about popping Christmas crackers and playing a stupid magical party game that the Canadians didn't understand and didn't want to bother trying to. It involved switching hats that were bewitched with different personalities and was called "Life of the Party". It seemed to involve a lot of tears.

As the six sipped their drinks to pretend that this wasn't painfully boring, something of note finally occurred.

"Malfoy! Malfoy! Has anyone seen Malfoy?" A girl shouted as she passed.

"What's all this then?" Bridgit asked, approaching her.

"Well, normally I wouldn't talk to you because you're scum and all, but it's just that my date is Malfoy and he hasn't shown up yet, and I'm worried that something awful must have happened to him!" She wailed.

"Don't worry! Why, knowing him, he's probably still in the bathroom putting on his makeup." Bridgit tried to comfort her. "P'tang! P'tang!" She added, as she felt it appropriate.

"You're right!" Her face brightened. "Up yours, savage!" She offered her thanks as she wandered off to the punch bowl.

At that moment, Sammy and Fudgey entered the ball and there was a moment where all of the murmuring stopped and everyone looked at the two of  
them.

Sammy was doing a great impersonation of a bombshell, sporting a floor-length black cocktail gown with a slit up the side in hopes of catching Reagan's eye and ending her own torment. She looked vaguely uncomfortable and quite miserable. Fudgey was wearing a simple tuxedo, a smidge too small for his…girth, adorned by his "Fudgey is Da King" cape. The two were certainly very attention-grabbing for various reasons. However, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the two would look even better if Fudgey wasn't there. At their grand entrance, Sammy's face darkened further.

"Let's go get some punch!" Fudgey announced loudly so that the crowd would part for them. Then he punched someone in the face and laughed.

"Ha ha! Get it? Punch?"

"Oh my God." Everyone turned to look at the corpse that was left behind, assuming that this is what Reagan objected to. "Look at what he's _wearing_." He finished, marring everyone's hopes that he was the most human of the exchange students.

Sammy and Fudgey paused at the actual punch bowl, causing Sammy to wonder if that life-ending joke had actually been necessary. She usually appreciated violence, but Fudgey was just too horrid to look at so the gesture was not appreciated.

"Do you like punch, Fudgey?" She made small talk, hoping if it was dumb enough he would leave her.

"Only when it's someone else!" Fudgey snorted in laughter.

"Oh…I see." Her face fell a bit.

"Wow…he's a real…ummm…winner. Yeah, Reagan, I think you've got some pretty stiff competition over there. And I'm not just saying that because he bleached his cumber bunt to the point of boardification." Bridgit tried not to laugh as they stood and bore witness to Sammy's suffering from a safe distance.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Reagan looked coy.

"Best not give him any hint of direct competition given that he's territorial as an Australian scabby wollyhopper." Fred clapped Reagan good-naturedly  
on the shoulder.

"Yeah, he'd probably sit on you. Then you'd die." George added.

"And he smells bad!" Bridgit didn't want to be left out of the verbal action.

"Out of the way! Belle of the ball coming through!" A familiar voice wafted through the delicate conversation.

"More like beast of the ball." A dry voice retorted.

"You'd better shut up, or I'm sticking you back in that room!" The other voice replied.

"That almost sounds like…" Bridgit began.

"Cora." Reagan finished.

"With a date!" George, Fred and Angelina chorused, looking aghast but at this point not actually looking.

"I thought you said she was lying to fake out Snape." Reagan looked confused.

"That's what I thought! She must have like, abducted and tortured someone!"

"Wait a second…that other voice sounds familiar…." Reagan suddenly realized with a jolt. "But it couldn't be. How could she have gained the utter obedience to accomplish such a thing?"

As the crowd was shoved out of the way, they saw Cora and her "date". Cora was dressed in a long, black and red gown, her hair up and a corsage on her wrist. She was accompanied by a platinum blond male, his hair seeming to have loosened up from being slicked back. He wore a matching crimson and black tuxedo that went very well with his red eyes.

"Dear God…" Bridgit breathed.

"What did you do to Moonmist?" Reagan looked appalled. "Did you transform him into a human? Just so you wouldn't look like a loser?"

"Shhh! His name is Aramus!" Cora hissed.

"Tch! You can't even come up with a good name when you're given a second chance." Moonmist, or Aramus, griped.

"Aramus…that sounds like Air Bus!" Bridgit giggled.

"It does not! My names are good!" Cora snapped. "And if anyone asks you, he's my boyfriend come from Canada! Okay?" There was such a manic look in her eyes that they were forced into compliance. Even Fred and George, who would love to play up something like that, realized it would be nothing short of suicide. Cora turned to Reagan.

"I bring you a gift, oh dateless one." She continued.

"Oh…how thoughtful." Reagan effectively masked his inner anxiety.

"Why don't you go see?" Cora smiled.

"Oh my GOD!" Reagan yelled, losing his composure as his doubts surfaced in a sinister black wave of horror. "You committed murder?" The ball suddenly fell silent and everyone turned to stare at him.

"…by slashing those already low prices to cut throat rates to give the customer a better deal!" Reagan finished lamely. "Now I can't pay my mortgage my kids won't have enough money to go to college." Everyone was disappointed due to the lack of scandal and returned to their regularly scheduled daily programming.

"Calm down. I didn't kill anyone. And I would never set you up with someone crappy like a Hogwarts student. Just think of what I have done as a favor that you are obligated to repay whenever I ask you to, no matter what it is." Cora smiled.

"Oh my, I don't think that I can accept something so binding, yet unasked for." Reagan moaned, fearing the unknown.

"Duh. That's why it's a favor." Cora rolled her eyes. "Come on out, Aravella!" She shouted, far too gleefully for anyone to feel safe.

The crowds parted and everyone gasped. Reagan went silent. He was saddened to his core. No one else really knew why because before him stood a very attractive young lady. She had long, white hair in an intricate braid, a white dress and monarch butterfly wings sticking out of the back of her bodice. Most curious were her blood red eyes. She waved at Reagan with a white, gloved hand.

"Hi, Reagan! I am for you!" The young woman waved at him some more.

Reagan looked dead inside.

Bridgit, having figured out that this was Tigerscry, laughed. She nudged Reagan in the ribs.

"Make sure you have her back by ten, okay?" She winked.

Without a second thought or glance, Reagan walked briskly out of the room.

"Worst favor ever." He seethed.

"He'll be back." Cora put her hands on her hips.

"Ummm…I don't think so." Bridgit sighed. "I'd be just as offended if you tried to pawn off a crappy, barely-thought-out sub-idea of forced slavery as a wonderful favor to me."

"I'm special!" Tigerscry cheered.

"Great…now I made this wondrous creation and no one will be her date for the evening. What a waste of my time." Cora grumped.

"Why don't we let Aramus and Aravella-"

"He's mine!" Cora cut Bridgit off mid-sentence.

"Besides, dorks aren't my type." Moonmist added.

While they had been exchanging witty repartee, everyone had failed to notice Neville talking to "Aravella" and, upon realizing this, hadn't the heart to tell him the person he was talking to wasn't really a person.

"Hey…ummm…are you that guy's cousin?" Neville pointed at "Aramus".

"Well, I suppose in the grand scheme of things…we're all cousins!" Tigerscry smiled blankly.

"That's so true! Would you like to dance?"

"Okay! Now that I have two legs, that should be easy." Tigerscry giggled.

Neville, upon this rare stroke of good fortune, decided to ignore the chance that she might be anything other than human or humanoid and acceptably doink-able races.

The two left to go dance.

"They grow up so fast." Bridgit sniffed.

"Speaking of which, I don't see _your_ 'date'." Cora said triumphantly. "Admit it! You lied to make me look bad. Well, who looks bad _now?_"

"Dobby is down here!" A voice well below her knees piped up.

Everyone looked down and, if possible, was consumed by an even greater horror than anything that had ever happened EVER in the history of Hogwarts.

"That grandma skin!" George shuddered.

"Those gaping eyes." Angelina felt pricklies all over.

"That grease-stained tuxedo sewed from some kind of second-hand robe." Fred couldn't avert his eyes.

"How long has it been here?" Cora gave Dobby an irritated glance.

"Dobby has been here the whole time, but Dobby didn't want to interrupt everyone's interesting conversation." Dobby smiled, irritating everyone.

"That's not a foreign exchange student!" Cora snapped at Bridgit.

"Yes he is! I mean, he's not a student at the school, but a student of the ways of humanity and freedom. In short, his different cultural upbringing makes him a wonderfully vapid exchange student." Bridgit smiled. "Isn't he cute?" She patted his head, causing his barely-contained eyes to bulge out further.

"Dobby wishes to experience dating! But only in a platonic sense because Dobby does not have a penis." Dobby explained.

"Well, I have to go now." Fred muttered, pulling George and Angelina away.

"But then how do you reproduce? Don't get me wrong, I think it would be awesome if you would all just die, but I'm just so painfully curious." Moonmist knelt down to look at Dobby like he was some kind of freak.

"Magic!" Dobby explained. "House elves have high level magic because we cannot have sex."

"Well I'll be. That's some power I could do without." Moonmist stood up again, prepared to ignore Dobby for the rest of the evening.

"Well, for the sake of appearances…let's all dance!" Cora commanded, not enjoying any part of this.

Frightened for their lives by her towering rage, everyone obeyed.

* * *

"So…Fudgey. I've noticed that this is your…third? Time taking this year." Sammy had turned on her bitch switch in a desperate attempt to throw Fudgey off the trail.

Fudgey pulled his face out of the turkey he had been eating and finished swallowing what he had in his mouth.

"Yup! They let me stay because I'm such an awesome keeper. Coach says as long as I eat a turkey a day, I won't get cut and I won't have to go to any practices. It's a win-win situation."

"Oh God." Sammy smiled like her soul had been ripped out of her body.

"Yes. Isn't it just wonderful for you to be in the presence of such monstrous talent?" Fudgey prompted.

"Why….yes. Monstrous is the word I would use."

"You look pretty tonight." Fudgey offered before diving back into his turkey.

"Oh, why thank you, Fudgey…I like your cape. It's very…monogrammed." Sammy, in the face of a compliment that was not socially deviant, was kind and replied with something neutral.

"Would you like to hear the story of where I got my cape?" Fudgey aked.

"God no." The less she learned about him the better.

"Well, I was with my family posse one time when we were in West Warwiskshirderbyville and we were visiting the History of British Magical Peoples Museum. They have good corndogs. Anyway, they had this exhibit about this Merlin guy who was I guess kind of important or something and he had this wicked awesome cape, only it was behind some sort of see-through barrier like a window…only bigger. So, I broke the window, and took the cape and drew on it to make it better. Whaddaya think?" He turned around, displaying the stolen and vandalized artifact of his people's past.

The once-magnificent black cape had the words "Fudgey is da King" spray-painted on the back with a little crappy picture of a crown. Sammy blanched.

"You stole a priceless artifact from a museum and drew all over it?"

"Yup! Aren't I awesome? That's why I'm da King! You know…if you wanted I could put you in line to become da Queen." He offered with a nudge nudge wink wink!

"Let's see if you live through this evening." Sammy restrained her fist of death, visibly shaking from the effort.

"Good, I hate long-term plans, too." He ripped the leg off of the turkey.

"Well, you seem to be busy with your…eating. I'm going to go…over there…now."

Sammy went to stand next to the enchanted jukebox, which was by far the most entertaining and least horrifying part of the evening.

* * *

"This just in," Professor Flitwick stood atop a pile of books on a chair, "the dance competition shall begin shortly. Anyone who wants to win a lame-ass faculty prize should report immediately to the dance floor. I would also like to add that my father, Yoda is in the audience and would appreciate it if you didn't step on him."

"Yes, Martin… Yoda. Come step down, now." Professor Sprout said gently, coaxing the slightly ill professor down from the podium.

"A competition!" Cora exploded. "I will win!"

"I will go and hide." Moonmist tried to slink away.

"If you do, I won't turn you back." Cora glared at him.

"A competition you say? Sounds ripping!" Moonmist changed his tune faster than a broken radio dial.

"Bridgit, good luck with your hideously short hideous dancing partner." George patted her on the back, secretly planting a device set to randomly shoot some products that he and Fred were field testing. He then washed his hand thoroughly.

"Miss Bridgit!" Dobby squeaked.

Bridgit looked down, stopping herself from almost stepping on him, and knelt down to politely listen to whatever horrid bat squeaking he had to say.

"Dobby, in the interests of exploring and understanding the magical British people's way of being adolescent, would like to request in all humility that he might be so bold as to perhaps call for the presence of your dancing person on that floor over there if you should perhaps be so inclined and polite and obliged as to accept Dobby's horrid, rude invitation."

"Well, that was a little blunt, but I know that you're still learning. I'm not sure how it will work, but why not?" Bridgit smiled.

"Dobby has come prepared for this eventuality." He conjured up a pair of stilts with shiny black shoes at the bottom.

Bridgit shrugged, completely indifferent, and they attempted to dance.

"Hmph!" Moonmist snorted. ~These kids all look like losers. It will be over even before it's begun…meaning it's over now.~

"Yes, we shall stomp them!" Cora added, as though she had read his mind.

And she did. Several children were injured by her pointy shoes, even though they weren't even in the dance competition.

And so began the Magical Happy Fun Dance Dance Party Competition for a bag of peanuts - non-salted peanuts because the salted kind was too expensive - began.

* * *

Reagan, having recovered from his brief shock born of indignation/rage/horror, returned to the ball, realizing he still had to watch Harry. He looked over to the corner of the room, where Harry was unmistakably playing the third wheel, forced between a sulking Ron and Hermione. They were fine. Scanning the room, he also noticed Sammy leaning against the enchanted jukebox, looking off into the distance. She appeared very lonely and forlorn, so Reagan decided to go say hi.

"Hey, Sammy? Where's Fudgey?" Reagan approached him.

"Dead, I hope." Sammy muttered.

"What?" Reagan looked at her in surprise, not at all disliking what she had said, but making a show of surprise anyway.

"He's a sorry excuse for a human being. And I just learned that he's more of a patronizer of the arts…" She sighed. "He destroyed an artifact to make his cape." She explained upon Reagan's blank gaze.

"I'm surprised you didn't hit him." Reagan offered.

"Me too. I discovered a whole new level of self control." She laughed softy at her little league joke. Remember people…baby steps.

"Are you sure? I heard he likes punch." Reagan replied with a beginner joke…a sense of humor was new to him.

"Thanks for the suggestion, Reagan, but I really shouldn't. Besides, with any luck after being on his training diet for the rest of the year he should be sterile." She sighed, hoping.

Reagan tastefully refrained from revealing what he thought of Fudgey.

"So…I guess your date's pretty much over, then." He said instead.

"Yes. And not a moment too soon. But how about you, Reagan? Harry seemed to be keen on you earlier." Sammy joked.

Reagan paused, trying to look bashful. "We're just not right for each other. And aside from no similar interests we have a little too much in common where anatomy is concerned."

They stood in silence, staring distractedly at the dancers, both thinking intently in the silence of their minds. Somehow they didn't notice the grotesque sight of Bridgit and Dobby trying to dance together.

"Aramus…bogey at six o'clock." Cora whispered to Moonmist.

"Gotcha. He doesn't know what's coming." Moonmist grinned.

As the couple they were dancing towards finally came within reach, Moonmist's cape, of its own free will, wrapped itself around the dancing guy's neck, obscuring his eyes.

"Argh! I can't see!" He communicated his problem to the world.

Then he tripped over his own feet and landed heavily on the stone floor, shattering his pelvis and disqualifying himself and his partner from the competition. As he screamed in pain, his date hit him for screwing everything up. Cora allowed herself a smile of victory. Five down, four to go.

Bridgit and Dobby danced carefully and slowly like an elderly couple so that Dobby wasn't horribly injured or maimed. As they tried, Fred and George's dispenser shot out a random pellet that landed in a girl's open-toed shoe. Moments later, it erupted into a fit of smoke that obscured the young man that the girl was dancing with. The girl coughed, trying to blow the smoke aside. Once it had cleared, the young man was wearing a tuxedo identical to that of the closest boy to him. Looking at his clothes, he began to cry.

"Now I look like Ron!" He ran from the room, disqualifying himself and his partner in the process.

And the blatant cheating went on. Malfoy, one of the remaining contestants, tried to make small talk with his date.

"It's not that father can't afford peanuts, it's just that I want to take them away from someone whose father can't. Like Weasley over there." He pointed to George. "Or Weasley over there." He pointed to Fred. "And the other ones." He waved dismissively at the rest of the room, assuming it contained several more Weasleys.

"Oh Malfoy, you're so brave." His date cooed.

They were suddenly struck at ramming speed by Aramus and Cora. Managing to recover, Malfoy sneered at them.

"Stupid mud wizard." He growled.

"What does that even mean?" His date asked.

"That I'm better than she is." Malfoy replied as he suddenly turned into a hippo.

"Shriek!" His date screamed and then ran away.

"Good shot, other people who are cheating!" Cora cheered, unaware of who it was. She secretly planned to take them out next, as they were obviously a threat.

"Looks like we're the only two couples left! And the music for the competition is almost over. Who will win?" Bridgit narrated.

"Dobby has to go to the bathroom." Dobby wobbled on his stilts.

* * *

"Look, Reagan, there's something I wanted to tell you that involves a startling confession." Sammy began.

"Me too, actually." Reagan admitted.

"Really?" Sammy was befuddled.

"Yeah. I think you know what I'm about to say." Reagan added.

"Oh, I never thought that you-"

"I am observant too, you know. I mean, it is pretty obvious."

"Yeah…I guess it's not as subtle as I thought it was…" Sammy blushed.

"That music…there's something wrong with it!" Reagan finished.

There was a moment of silence for dear Sammy's departed hopes. Then another for her dreams. May they rest in peace.

"Do you think the jukebox is broken? It sounds off-pitch." Reagan poked at a knob.

"Hey! Don't play with those knobs! We only have one left!" Filch spat at them, unveiling his yellow teeth.

Reagan and Sammy, in a display of assimilation, had already learned that they didn't need to pay attention to Filch, so they didn't.

"The knob is me." Filch whimpered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Anyway, onto the more important matter of something possibly being almost amiss…" Sammy sighed in annoyance.

"Well, I don't think it's _that_ important. It's just a little unsettling is all; you know, a little conflicted. It almost sounds like there are two songs being played over top of each other." Reagan tried to shift attention back to not Filch.

"Wait a minute! Maybe there _are_ two songs being played on top of each other. Let's just see what happens when we turn off the music input like this…" Sammy turned the only knob that worked.

"Gahhhh! My baby! It was unwed!" Filch collapsed.

The dominant melody that had been playing faded away into oblivion. What was left was an unmistakably terrifying underbelly melody.

"The Stradivarius spell!" Violet shrieked from where she stood from where she had been eavesdropping on the two for gossip fodder.

Everyone immediately broke out into a mass panic. Taking advantage of the confusion, Fred and George decided to make things worse by doing some sudden and rapid consumer testing. Chucking pellets of goodness knows what into the fray, their only measurable success was increasing the terror from yellow to red as afflicted people were enveloped in clouds of colored smoke.

"By my tusks, this is the worst dance ever!" A random human-turned-elephant commented as he/she/it smashed through a wall.

"Quick! Destroy the jukebox!" Cora yelled.

"It's always destruction with you." Sammy sighed. "_Explodeus!_" A fire ball engulfed the jukebox and everyone had to shield their faces from the heat of the impressive back lash while Sammy smirked triumphantly.

"Another crisis averted by- What?"

"I think you averted it, Sammy." Bridgit answered what she assumed was Sammy's rhetorical question.

"No! That was a cry of disbelief at the jukebox's still being aliveness!" Sammy spluttered using creative adjectives in her shock. With the smoke from the blast clearing it was obvious that the jukebox had been unaffected. The Stradivarius song continued to play.

"It must be protected by some kind of force field spell." Reagan deduced.

"Dobby will stop it! Dobby has more powerful magic than everyone. And if it will save Dobby's beloved school, then Dobby is willing to sacrifice all!" He shouted in passion.

Everyone was largely unmoved and felt no guilt that they treated him so badly.

"FOR LOOOOOOVE!" Dobby screamed as he ran on his gangly stilts. He leapt onto the jukebox and latched onto it with his gross little house elf hands. "!" He screamed a hideously piercing battle cry as he used all of his magic to self-destruct.

As the breeze settled, the heat subsided, and all of the house elf parts came unstuck from the ceiling, it became increasingly clear to everyone that his sacrifice had been in vain. Thus ended the only house elf who had dared to not be treated like garbage. He was not mourned. Not even by Hermione since she was only into activism to meet hot guys.

"My word. It appears they are in need of some assistance." Dumbledore noted, secretly pleased to have all of his house elf labour back down to free. "Minerva, please go help them while I tend to Severus. He also appears to be in need."

Professor McGonagall nodded curtly and went to assist the exchange students whilst the less-important staff members evacuated the student body. Dumbledore continued to laugh at Snape, who had been hit by a pellet of Fred and George's. He had sprouted a rather sporting pair of mountain ram horns, thereby causing him a painful dilemma.

"Curses! The horns work wonders for my evil image, but now I'm immobilized. Why must I choose? Why?" He cried in despair from the floor from which he could not rise due to the weight of the horns. Ah, the dilemma indeed.

"You're not very threatening if you can't move." Dumbledore offered his sage advice.

"Good call old man… I mean headmaster." Snape concurred. "But I'll be crying myself to sleep for at least the next week. Now will you maybe help me get rid of these?"

"Not yet." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes.

* * *

Professor McGonagall kicked the plot out of its rut by raising her wand.

"_Exuere Arcaae_!" McGonagall tried to dispel the barrier.

However the red beam that shot forth from her wand rebounded violently with a loud CRACK and hit her in the forehead, knocking her from her feet.

"I'll take care of her. You guys figure out how to get rid of that thing! We don't have much time left because Snape wasted a good three minutes of plot time griping about his damn horns!" Reagan rushed to the fallen Professor's side.

"That's easier said than done! This force field is the work of science!" Bridgit growled, confused.

"Well if magic doesn't work then I'll try smashing it the old fashioned way!" Cora aimed a mighty, mighty kick at the jukebox.

Upon connecting with an unseen barrier, Cora was thrown backwards into a wall. At that moment Professor Summersong ran up to Tigiris and Sammy.

"Look, any violence you direct towards that thing will be deflected back onto you." She said breathlessly.

"Couldn't you have told us before Cora got blown up?" Bridgit looked sadly back at her friend.

"No. I've noticed she's more of a kinesthetic learner. She learns by doing, not by listening." Summersong said with a straight face.

"Okay, what should we do?" Sammy demanded.

"Well, Bridgit, think back to the last time you were faced with this problem." Professor Summersong began.

"Ah Crap. I hate it when everyone's lives rest on my shoulders. I thought that was why Sammy was the leader!" Bridgit griped.

"Stop complaining and focus!" Sammy snapped.

"Think of what you did to destroy the spell last time." Professor Summersong persisted.

"Um, You clearly already know the answer, so maybe instead of asking leading questions that revolve around educating you should tell us the answer so that we don't all die." Bridgit suggested.

"The answer was your intent. Observe. I feel that this room really needs a skylight!" She smiled pointing her wand towards the ceiling. "_Collabi!_"

A substantial chunk of stone tumbled from the roof and crushed the jukebox into splinters. The melody ceased and the only eyesore in the room aside from Snape was destroyed.

"Oh! I get it. Last time when I smashed the violin, it was by accident because I was "resuscitating" Professor Snape." Bridgit realized the answer.

"Who taught you first aid anyway? The French?" Snape growled, insulting his hated nemeses. But that's another story.

"So as long as the intent wasn't to destroy the jukebox, whatever else you did would penetrate the shield. It was all about intent!" Bridgit continued ignoring Snape.

"Exactly! I'm so happy when education succeeds." Professor Summersong beamed.

"It appears I had a brain twin." Dumbledore sighed, referencing book 1. "Or rather, this was a brilliant mockery left as a calling card. I'm afraid the culprit behind this was Lord Voldemort."

"Oh my word!" Professor McGonagall sat up groggily. "That is terrible news! But we must never tell the students."

"Yes. Never tell the students." Dumbledore echoed.

It went without saying that Sammy, Reagan, Bridgit, and Cora were not only not students but also unlikely to leak this vital information. They had no real friends anyway now that Dobby was dead.

"Now Severus, about those horns…" Dumbledore took out his wand.

"Noooo!" Snape cried at the prospective loss of his newly beloved horns.

However, he needed mobility to ruin everyone else's lives. So with mournful sobs he sacrificed his horns for the greater good of evil.


	16. Where's My Spectacles?

**Chapter Sixteen: Where's My Spectacles?**

"Where's my spectacles?" Dumbledore queried, searching throughout the staff room as he spoke.

"I don't know!" Professor McGonagall replied for the sixteenth time. Dumbledore felt somewhat affronted, as she obviously wasn't looking hard enough.

"They're on your hat." Professor Snape sighed, still mourning the loss of his horns.

"Ah, so they are! I'm afraid when one's mind is occupied with greater thoughts one forgets the little things." Dumbledore sighed, sliding his half-moon spectacles off of his tall pointy hat and onto his nose.

"That's a nice way to say senile." Professor Snape muttered under his breath.

"I say, Albus, I just noticed. Why does Professor Binns never come to these staff meetings? As a minor character myself, I would also like to not come. So why must I be invited?" Professor Flitwick complained.

"Well, he's dead so we don't pay him. You, on the other hand, are a full-fledged staff member." McGonagall said, eyeing him coldly. "You have to suffer like the rest of us."

"Tee Hee!" Bridgit and Cora giggled. "You said member!"

"Girls!" Professor Summersong scolded them. "Get your minds out of the gutter!"

The two briefly hung their heads in shame as a sign of respect, then quietly resumed snickering as the conversation continued to unfold.

"Well," Trelawney began, pretending to be important, "the other day I was in my walnut garden and found two of the largest, most plump walnuts I have ever seen. So, grasping them firmly I plucked them from their twig and brought them promptly back to my residence. Using walnut divination, I was able to determine a crucial fact." Everyone leaned forwards in anticipation. Trelawney smiled and savored the dramatic tension as much as she could. "The important fact is…" Everyone leaned even closer, "Voldemort is alive!"

There was a pause and everyone continued staring at her.

"Well, that was enlightening as ever." Snape sneered at her.

"How could we ever manage without you?" Professor McGonagall continued.

"A-BURN!" They shouted together, exchanging a high five.

Then, realizing what they had just done, they looked in disgust at the hands that had made contact and wiped them on their robes. It was most reprehensible.

"Yes, while I enjoyed middle school as well, that chapter of my life ended several hundred years ago." Dumbledore dryly interrupted their stupidity. "So, onto actually important matters: I am faced with the decision of whether or not to close the school and send everyone home in light of this potentially lethal attack at the Yule Ball."

There was a pause during which no one looked surprised at all. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at his faculty.

"What? Nothing? Not even a disinterested cough?"

"Sorry… you've just said that so many times that it's lost its impact." Professor Flitwick spoke for the collective.

"Well," Reagan piped up, "maybe you actually_ should_ close down the school. I mean, everyone at that dance could have died!"

"Well, maybe you should go back to Canada!" Snape growled at him. "You guys too." He added as an afterthought to Bridgit and Cora.

Snape, disliking Sammy the most, didn't waste words and instead threw a heavy newt paperweight at her.

"But…but we're the good guys. Nothing bad happens to us!" Dumbledore protested.

"Not to agree with noodlehead over there," Professor McGonagall gestured towards Snape, who growled in response, "but closing is something we simply cannot do. We've stayed open throughout all those other disasters; it's become tradition! We're like 7-11, through wind or shine or attempted murder, we're always open."

"You know there's actually a valid reason for potentially keeping the school open." Sammy began.

"Yes! Grumpy one is right! Listen to him." Dumbledore prompted.

"Her. I'm a girl. As I was saying, keeping the school open is the only way to draw out Voldemort's operative. Given the style and methods of attack, we can undoubtedly expect another attempt. Then we can catch Severedhead and extract the information out of him."

Everyone nodded at this except for Reagan who looked aghast.

"So we'll just use Harry as bait?" He demanded.

"Well, it's no more dangerous than the stuff I usually leave for him to do." Dumbledore admitted.

"But Severedhead has already shown he doesn't care about killing innocents with this latest attempt. What about the rest of the students?" Reagan persisted although it was obvious the decision had been made.

"I agree that the other students are in danger but there is really no other convenient way." Professor Summersong said soothingly. "We will of course increase school security to try and avoid any unfortunate incidents."

"Yes, I will have Filch conduct a complete search of the school and in the meantime, as stringent as it sounds, I'll place a ban on all music in the school. That is the only way to make sure another assassination attempt can't be concealed." Dumbledore explained.

Everyone nodded. Although somewhat radical, they knew ridiculous conservatism was the best they could do. Gold star for effort.

"By the way… Who won the dance competition?" Cora spoke up.

"Oh, come on! This is hardly the time." Sammy whacked her upside the head.

"I disagree." Tigirs kicked Sammy in the shins.

"Stop it, children!" Professor Summersong kicked them all. "Violence is never the answer."

"Well, technically since both Miss Firecatcher and Miss Willowstaff's couples were the last on the dance floor, the contest resulted in a draw. So you both must share the peanuts." Dumbledore handed over the meager pouch.

"Hooray!" Bridgit and Cora cheered, digging into the contents.

"But I must warn you," Dumbledore rambled on, "the fruits of dishonest labour are never as sweet."

"Yum! Peanuts!" Cora smacked her lips.

"They're roast-a-licious!" Bridgit misread the label.

Dumbledore visibly deflated at the flagrant disregard for wisdom.

"At least _you_ still like me." He muttered to some finger puppets.

"What about your dance partners?" Reagan gently teased them. "Don't they deserve some peanuts too?"

"No! They can burn in hell!" Cora snarled.

"A peanut-less hell!" Bridgit foamed.

"Something just occurred to me." Reagan turned to Dumbledore. "This is a private school, how come you could only afford a bag of peanuts for a prize? I mean, I could understand a public school…"

"Oh…well…" Dumbledore began uneasily. "I lavishly spent all the money on tacky furniture with which I could adorn the castle."

Everyone looked shocked at his frivolousness.

"But-but Trelawney blew a bunch of it on internet stocks!" Dumbledore quickly shifted some of the blame.

"Well I figured Moonshoes! + Astrology! = Yes! However the stars were not in my favor. I probably should have checked them first." Trelawney sighed.

"Dammit! I could have spent that money on gross, shriveled things in jars!" Snape swore.

"In the interests of sanity, this meeting is adjourned." Dumbledore sighed.

Everyone cheered and ran away, except for Snape who continued to cry.

"Oh, get over it man! They weren't _that_ great." Dumbledore prompted Snape to move on.

"But those horns were the best things to happen to me in years." Snape moaned.

"You need to get laid." Dumbledore then left.

"I'm not pathetic…" Snape muttered. "I think I'll spend the rest of the day planning evil things to do to Harry Potter. Then they'll see how not pathetic I am!" Snape smiled evilly, the sun sinking behind the clouds of his metaphorical existence.

* * *

"Just drink it stupid!" Cora shoved a potion towards Moonmist. She, Bridgit and their still human dragonettes were in the hallway outside of the staff room waiting for Snape to come out so they could guard him. Sammy and Reagan were there too.

"No! I like being big! I pushed over six people today and one kid even gave me his lunch money." Moonmist protested.

"Well I can't argue with that." Cora sighed, faced with a dilemma.

"I can push people too! See?" Tigerscry beamed, pushing Moonmist against a wall and shoving the potion down his throat. There was a gurgling sound as Moonmist tried to avoid choking, then in a poof of smoke he returned to normal.

_**Nooo! You idiot!**_ Moonmist cried.

"Truly you are the saint of the school." A raggedy, beaten-up looking boy named Consonants rasped. (His cruel, cruel parents were linguists.) "Thank you for ridding us of that awful tyrant!"

"No Problem!" Tigerscry beamed.

"Get out of here!" Cora shoved Consonants out of the way.

"The cycle of violence continues!" The boy wailed as he ran away.

"My turn!" Tigerscry downed the potion and promptly returned to her usual self.

"Well, I'm glad that's over." Bridgit sighed.

At that moment, but only at that moment, Neville bustled up to them, slightly out of breath.

"Have either of you seen Aravella anywhere?" He panted.

"Who?" Cora looked rather bored.

"Ummm…she went back to Canada. In the North Pole." Bridgit lied.

"No! I didn't even get to say goodbye. She was my one true love and now I'll never see her again!" He protested.

"Ummm… if it's fate, you'll meet again." Bridgit lamely offered flimsy advice.

"By the code, you're right! I'll never give up hope!"

He skipped away down the hallway greatly depressing everyone else.

"That poor boy will cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life." Reagan sympathetically watched him as he soldiered on.

"See what happens when you disregard the laws of nature to create dance partners?" Sammy snapped. "People get hurt! In all senses of the word."

"I stand by my decision. Crushing his heart was totally worth the peanuts." Cora sniped as she downed the final peanut, the sorrow and ruin surrounding it making its flavour all the sweeter.


	17. Ahhhhh! Run Away!

**Chapter Seventeen: Ahhhh! Run Away!**

Everyone sat in their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom chatting anxiously. Professor Summersong, not present in the room, was uncharacteristically late.

"I wonder what's keeping her?" Cora sighed impatiently.

"Didn't you hear?" Hermione forced herself between several students.

"No Hermione, do tell us." Bridgit sighed in defeat.

"She's being investigated by the Ministry of Magic! After receiving the official report about the Yule Ball incident, suspicion was diverted to Professor Summersong." She explained.

"But why?"

"Well, they felt she knew "a little too much"." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Apparently knowing how to save everyone makes you guilty. In case you hadn't noticed, our governmental institution isn't the brightest thing in a fancy building."

"I feel homesick." Bridgit was reminded of their own government.

"Hey, how about your government officials and our government officials get together and play hopscotch in a minefield?" Cora suggested with a dark smile.

"I'll see what I can do." Hermione matched Cora's smile.

"Wow. We're really rubbing off on you." Bridgit giggled.

"So do you know exactly how she's being investigated?" Cora asked.

"Well, I saw her being followed by a ministry employee so she is under 24 hour surveillance-style investigation. From this I deduced that for a period of one month she will be followed around the clock by a ministry employee, with every move she makes falling under intense scrutiny and everything she says being recorded. I learned about this from reading all of the Ministry training manuals that I could tape together from the paper trash bins outside of the Ministry of Magic. Due to the stringent nature of her surveillance, I imagine that for the time being she will be super conservative and careful about what she says and does." Hermione rattled off with machine-like efficiency.

"Gosh, Hermione, who needs Mr. Spock when we have you?" Bridgit asked in bewilderment.

"I will assimilate all knowledge!" Hermione smiled in a most unnerving way.

"Didn't you watch 'Kingdom of the Crystal Skull'? Your head will explode! No human can possibly contain so much knowledge!" Cora shook Hermione's shoulders, imploring her not to be so foolhardy.

"In the event that my head explodes, you can totally have my stuff." Hermione offered, rolling her eyes.

"Can I have that in writing?" Cora pushed a piece of parchment towards Hermione.

"…No…" Hermione's spider sense was tingling.

"Umm…yes…of course." Cora said awkwardly. "It was a joke. Ha ha. It was amusing…"

"But I wanted Hermione's moral righteousness and S.P.E.W. badges." Bridgit was sad.

"Get your own, bitch! That's my I.P.!" Hermione started to reach for her stabbing knife.

Suddenly, all the torchlight was snuffed out by a cold draft that whistled through the room. Before anyone's eyes could adjust to the dark, the heavy doors were flung open, crashing noisily against the wall. A dark figure strode into the room surrounded by the dim light of a single candle. Bridgit and Cora, unsure of the situation, jumped in front of Harry to shield him from potential danger. As the torches sputtered to life, Professor Summersong's unnaturally pale face swam into view. Her usual lavender dress was replaced by black flowing robes and her eyes were red with dark circles underneath them. Her hair was black and stringy, hanging loosely past her shoulders. She smiled wickedly, revealing pointed eyeteeth. Raising her arms in a threatening manner, she cried,

"Bleh! Bleeeh! I vant to suck your blood!" in a trembling voice.

The hair on everyone's necks rose as they gaped at her in silent embarrassment.

"Tee hee!" she giggled. "Okay class, what am I?" She asked while returning the torches to a cheery blaze.

"A vampire!" Hermione cried.

"Correction, a badly hyperbolized rendition of a vampire." She smiled brightly, removing her false teeth.

Now that the light in the room had returned to normal, the class could see not only that Professor Summersong's makeup job was bad, but that she had been followed into the room by a wormy looking man. The ministry guy shuffled to a chair at the back of the room and nervously surveyed Summersong as though he thought she was crazy. He scribbled down some notes and took out a pair of opera glasses to continue surveying her with.

"You can sit down now girls." Professor Summersong added to Bridgit and Cora, who left a befuddled Harry to go find their seats.

"What were you two doing? Protecting your boyfriend?" Malfoy sneered at them.

"No! We were protecting the acid monster." Cora explained quickly, pointing at the tank.

"We love him!" Bridgit cheered.

"Gak gak gak gaaaaaak!" The acid monster surfaced and laughed from its tank that had been relocated to behind Harry's desk.

"I think he's creepy." Harry looked at it nervously.

"It's cute! Like an onion!" Cora smiled.

"He's our little Onion Cop!" Tigirs named him.

Everyone gawked at them for a moment.

"You two aren't allowed to name things anymore." Professor Summersong admonished them. "Hagrid and I have discussed it and we feel that it is cruel and, as professors, we are morally obliged to intervene on behalf of those who can't speak for themselves."

"B-but, he _likes_ it!" Cora protested.

Onion Cop looked sad at the prospect of his new name.

"That's the rule. Now for class! Can anyone guess what today's lecture is about?" Professor Summersong tried to be funny.

"Fire." Replacement Crabbe blurted out before anyone could stop him.

"No. You're close. Try again." She prompted him while pointing suggestively at the false vampire teeth.

"Uhhhhghhh…Fir-"

"-That's right! Vampires!" She cut him off before he could finish.

Replacement Crabbe looked proud of himself

"Good job buddy!" Replacement Goyle made to give him a high five. Replacement Crabbe missed and punched Replacement Goyle in the face, knocking him from his chair.

"Yes vampires." Professor Summersong sighed. "Let's all turn to page 365 as we start the vampire unit. You can read it later for homework. Anyway, who can tell me some- yes Miss Firecatcher?"

"Where did you get those robes?" Bridgit interrupted with her irrelevant question.

"What? Can't I own anything black, flowing and mysterious?" she defended herself.

"But you always wear bright colours." Bridgit pressed.

"Oh fine. I borrowed them from Professor Snape." She admitted.

"Ummm…since when would he lend you anything?"

"Fine! I stole them from his closet. Happy now?" She snapped.

The ministry wiener gasped and continued to scribble crap down.

"What? I washed them." She added at her student's horrified looks.

* * *

Elsewhere in the school, Snape was rifling through his closet.

"Let's see…" he muttered to himself, "shall I wear black robe #7 or black robe #32." He paused a moment, a frown on his face.

"Where is black robe #32?" He removed the empty hanger to look for a clue.

A small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. It read:

_Dear Severus,_

_I took your robe_

The bottom was signed with a picture of a flower. He clenched the note in his fist, face contorting with rage.

"TIGERLILYYY!" He roared.

* * *

"Back to vampires. Miss Grainger, since you undoubtedly know the answer, please tell me the physical characteristics of a vampire." Professor Summersong continued despite her spider sense tingling.

"Well they're usually pale and have unusually long eye teeth. They don't have reflections-" Hermoine was cut short by Violet.

"And they're really charismatic!" Lavender and Parvati giggled at her comment.

"And they're chiseled like marble statues, have faster-than-life reflexes, teeth that can cut through concrete and they sparkle like diamonds in the sunshine!" Violet continued. "See? This is a picture of one. He's my boyfriend. He looks very pretty. He has the soul of an anguished angel and the angst makes him even more delicious."

"That's just a picture of you, Violet." Parvati looked a little concerned.

"No, they just can't be photographed." Violet defended herself.

"But it says in the textbook-" Lavender began.

"HE'S MY BOYFRIEND AND I'M IN COLLEGE!" Violet screamed like a crazy person and panted heavily.

"I'm actually glad that you brought that up, if I may interject Miss Tweeny." Professor Summersong cut in.

Violet looked sad but nodded.

"That is one of the more common misconceptions about vampires. If you would be so kind as to turn to page 385 in your text book, you will meet our case study, Race Valentinez." They all flipped their books open. "As you can see, he was not blessed with good looks or charisma and was photographed successfully."

This understatement caused a shudder to run through the class and Violet, who had hidden under her desk.

The delusional vampire seemed to think he was rather good looking, as his picture did muscle poses and winked with his good eye. Obviously in denial about his male pattern balding, his hair was slicked back into a short, greasy ponytail. His angular face, broken by a butt chin, sported a unibrow, a giant mole and stray hairs accentuated by a large and disturbing eye counterpart to a somewhat normal one. He wore no shirt, bearing his bony chest to the world with its one small patch of chest hair, his pride and joy. He waved bony arms, which looked like they would snap, at all who beheld him.

"Kill it!" Parvati shrieked, hurling her book across the room.

"As you can see, just like with regular people, some vampires are hideous. That they are devilishly handsome and excessively sexual is a myth. This came from the fact that no one wants to read a book about ugly vampires." Harry shuddered, briefly reminded of Lockhart. "Now, how do you suppose one kills a vampire?" Summersong moved along with the lesson.

"Sunlight!" Someone yelled.

"Holy water and crosses!"

"Garlic!"

"Fire!" (guess who)

Professor Summersong sighed.

"No Terrance, fire is not-Oh my God!" Her eyes widened.

Replacement Crabbe, real name Terrance (not that he could remember), was on fire. Grabbing a bucket of holy water that she had intended to use as a prop, she doused the flames.

"Are you alright, Terrance?" she asked breathlessly.

"Heh… Terrance." Someone snickered as though Replacement Crabbe was a better name.

"Duhhh…" Replacement Crabbe tried to poke a torch.

"No, dear, that's hot." She ushered him away. "Rex," she turned to Replacement Goyle, "Please escort Terrance to the infirmary."

"You've returned my name to me! Now I no longer have to serve the evil one!" Replacement Goyle prepared to cry for joy.

"Cram it, Replacement Goyle, and do as you're told!" Malfoy barked.

"Oh." Replacement Goyle hung his head and continued to do as he was told.

"Well, you passed that test." The wormy Ministry operative muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" Professor Summersong was instantly suspicious.

"Oh. I set him on fire." He explained.

"WHAT?" She was livid. "GET OUT!"

"But you see-"

She picked him up by his hair and dragged him to the door. Then, she literally kicked him out of the room. There was much rejoice.

"Yayyy!" Everyone cheered.

"And sadly enough, this isn't the worst class we've had all year." She sighed.

"Yay! We love your class!" Everyone cheered. Yes. Even Malfoy. After all, one of his minions had almost died. He didn't get that kind of entertainment from other classes.

"So continuing, nothing any of you mentioned will actually kill a vampire. They are just painful irritants, like low-grade acid. Miss Firecatcher, how do you kill a vampire?"

"There's only one sure fire way and it's not for the faint of heart. First, you stab them through the heart with a wooden stake. Then, you cut their head off. Next, burn their body and spread their ashes at a crossroad and bury their head stuffed with garlic and nail a silver cross to the lid of their coffin and seal it with holy oil." Bridgit went through the lengthy procedure.

"That's very complex." Lavender scratched her head.

"Well, if you just want to distract them long enough to get away, then, throw some seeds on the ground. They're so anal compulsive, they'll have to pick up, count and sort everyone. By size, of course." Cora offered. "Luckily, vampires can't do mental long division. Math is for the living.

"Because of the effort that goes into killing them, we tend to prefer to rehabilitate evil vampires. Next class after the break we will have an interview with a vampire. His name is Jove Banon and he is a reformed vampire having not killed anyone for 23 years. Now, we will briefly touch on the Philippeno cousin of the vampire. You see-"

"But we don't care about anything outside of Britain. If it isn't a stinking colony, then it's too savage to learn about." Ron raised his hand and spoke without waiting for acknowledgment.

"Mr. Weasely!" Professor Summersong was affronted.

"Actually…" Hermione continued, "I agree. It won't be on any of our standardized tests – tests standardized by the British Ministry of Magic – so I don't really see the point."

Professor Summersong looked pensive for a moment.

"I suppose it's just as well, since I didn't know anything about that anyway. I think everyone needs the last few minutes of class off, including myself." She sat down heavily. "Thank God it's Christmas break."

* * *

Bridgit and Cora sighed, meandering aimlessly down the hallway. Being dismissed from class wasn't as pristine as it sounded. Now they had nothing to do. Reagan and Sammy were in class, so there was no one to bug. Snape was teaching class, so there was no one to guard. Harry was annoying, so there was someone to avoid. All in all, it wasn't shaping up to be a bucket of laughs.

"I'm bored!" Bridgit whined.

"So what? Deal with it!" Cora retorted.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, what do you want to do, anyway?" Bridgit looked around at the gray, stone walls.

"We should probably figure out what to get Sammy and Reagan for Christmas." Cora mused, remembering the joyful holiday that was coming up. And how she was expected to give gifts in order to get some herself.

"Well, I suppose it's too early to give them engagement rings." Bridgit laughed.

"Reagan would like anything we give him, so let's make something so we don't have to spend money." Cora laid down the battle plan.

"And Sammy doesn't like anything we give her, so let's make her something as well." Bridgit added.

"Perfect! What should we make?" Cora asked.

"Knitting is a bad idea because Reagan can do that. Let's make some kind of pottery thing." She had a sudden epiphany. "I found some dirt the other day and if we add water and some magic, it will become clay!"

"I guess so. Not like we have anything better to do…" Cora sighed.

"It's decided then! I have the dirt in my pockets!" Bridgit pulled out several heaping handfuls of dirt.

"Dare I ask why it's in your pants?" Cora raised an eyebrow.

"Because if I didn't keep it with me, then house elves would have cleaned it up."

"Ah. Quite. To the dorms!" The two galloped off to their dormitories.

Upon arrival, they set to work making the dirt into clay. That was easy. What was difficult was fending off the house elves.

"No! The filth! Let me just clean it a little!" One reached its tiny, tiny arm out to rid the school of the offending matter.

"Back! Back I say!" Cora kicked the small being in the face.

"GAHH!" Blood poured onto the floor and the remaining elves set to work cleaning it up.

With them distracted, the two returned to the task at hand. Then it was done. Hooray. However, transferring their creative energies into something that was good and constructive was quite difficult.

"I'll make the one for Sammy, you make the one for Reagan." Bridgit muttered, smushing her clay into bits.

"Right. I'll make mine into a cup that can hold water. Reagan seems to like drinking water." Cora decided.

"Or alcohol!" Bridgit interjected.

They both laughed.

"I'm going to make mine into a vase. If Sammy has more pretty things, maybe she'll be nicer." She mused.

Deciding not to destroy her friend's logic, Cora bit her tongue and began molding a cup. Bridgit hummed to herself and started delicately fashioning various pieces of clay and molding them into perfection. Cora, looking at Bridgit's exquisitely shaped parts to her vase masterpiece, looked at her own saggy cup in dismay. Enraged at her seeming lack of talent, she started throwing her cup against the ground and stomping on it.

"Damn you! Work!" She yelled, pounding her fist into the clay.

By some miracle stroke of luck, the clay responded to her divine will. Parting in half, it formed itself through her merciless blows into a creature of such magnificence that it could only be called 'pretty good'.

"Hey! That's not bad!" Bridgit eyed her friend's creation.

"It's a wave cup!" Cora held it aloft. "See how if folds in on itself to make a wave shape? That was totally by design! Intelligent design no less."

"Mine's a turkey vase!" Bridgit brought her finished creation into the light. "I used some of the blood for colour. I don't like to waste."

Cora stifled a gag. It was not very pretty, being that it looked like a turkey with blood on it. It looked more like a PETA protest piece than anything else.

"I don't quite know how to tell you this…" she began, "but…it's more to Reagan's taste." She put it nicely. ~Because only he could love something so frightening…~

"Oh…you're right. Now what'll we do?"

"Help me." The elf moaned from the floor as the other elves carried him towards a chute that lead to an incinerator.

"I dunno. That was our only clay." Cora began pondering.

"Please, for the love of God."

"Oh please, opportunity, knock at our door!" Bridgit pleaded aloud.

Just then, the portrait hole swung open. Enter Fred and George.

"Wow. Opportunity responds to my will." Bridgit marveled at herself.

"Well…clay responds to my beatings." Cora huffily shot back.

"What the hell is going on?" George asked, horrified.

"They're going to kill him!" Fred shouted.

"Out pottery isn't that bad! Reagan may be sad, but it won't kill him." Bridgit frowned.

"Give me him, you lot!" Fred grabbed the wounded house elf from the rest.

"You should get him to the infirmary." George said breathlessly.

"Righto!" Fred dashed from the common room and down the hallway, heroically saving the house elf's life.

"So why aren't you two in class?" Bridgit asked him.

"We decided to liberate ourselves from Professor Binns' class in the interests of good times. So what exactly happened here?" He looked concerned.

"He got in the way." Cora said darkly.

"They do that, don't they?" George sighed. "Just don't tell Hermione what you did. She thinks it's bad enough when you _don't_ hit them. Damn hippies."

"On that previous topic, I want to have good times!" Bridgit said excitedly.

"But we still have to get a present for Sammy." Cora chided her.

At that moment, the portrait hole swung noisily open as Fudgey stormed through. Cape swirling behind him, the three watched in surprise as he sauntered up to his room.

"Fred, or George or whoever you are, I'm taking a nap to prepare for my trip home over the holidays. Wake me when it is meal time." He arrogantly informed them of what they were to do.

"Grrrr…damn that Fudgey." George muttered.

"Well, goodnight." Fudgey went into his room. By now, everyone knew that he didn't listen.

"Heh! You sound like Sammy!" Bridgit mused.

"Speaking of Sammy…" Fred had emerged from the portrait hole as well with blood on his hands and a sudden idear. "Does she like capes?"

"She does when they're Fudgey's!" Cora caught on instantly.

"Because when Fudgey suffers, Sammy is happy." Bridgit slowly put two and two together.

"Right! It's decided then, and the timing couldn't be better. McMuffin only takes his cape off when he's sleeping, so it'll be locked in his safe deposit box."

"However," Fred cautioned them, "His safe deposit box is guarded by a most fearsome beast named Cordon Bleu."

"Sounds like a sauce…is there such a thing as alive sauce?" Bridgit asked nervously, remembering her lunchtime meal.

"No. It's the name of his pet duck." George dispelled her worries.

"You sure know a lot about Fudgey." Cora mentioned.

"Well, he is on the quidditch team with us. Oh. And the only person he ever talks about is himself." Fred shook his head in annoyance.

"And we share a room." George made a face

"So what's our plan of attack?" Cora started trying to see how the caper could work.

"Well, we'll stand watch at the door while you two face the danger." George offered.

"Gee, thanks." Cora muttered darkly.

"It was our idea. Your turn to do the work." Fred smiled easily.

"Don't worry," George added at their looks of terror, "we've disabled the pervert cannon. Now you can complete your objective and we can have after hour sex with our girlfriends."

"But how do you silence a duck?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"With a sledgehammer." George offered a suggestion.

"No, too loud." Fred whacked him. "And too messy."

"How big is the duck, anyway?" Bridgit asked. "Is it like a Canadian goose? 'Cuz those are huge and frightening. They hissed at me when I tried to feed them bread. Ungrateful little creatures of God."

"We've never seen it, but we hear it because it's too fat to get down the stairs." George muttered.

"Well, isn't that just typical; the fat guy has a fat pet. Way to be creative, creator." Cora scorned whatever force it was that had spawned them all.

"I fed Auntie May's duck a peanut butter sandwich once. Poor little bugger had its mouth stuck shut for a year." George remembered fondly. "Well…it died after a few days, though."

"What kind of peanut butter did you use?" Cora demanded.

"Err…peanut butter flavored crazy glue." George laughed sheepishly.

"What? Why would someone make flavored crazy glue? That's like asking for children and animals to eat it!" Bridgit was appalled.

"Well, it is created by Satanco." Fred offered his meager explanation.

"Okay…well, peanut butter is sticky, and so is this kid's gum." Cora shoved a nearby kid and stole the gum he was chewing right out of his mouth.

"Why is it always me?" Consonants cried, running up to his room in dismay.

"There! Now I'll put it in this jar of peanut butter Bridgit keeps in her pockets!" Cora retrieved it.

"What else do you keep in there?" Fred asked in amazement.

"A lady never tells." She winked.

"It's best not to ask." Cora cautioned them.

She dropped the chewing gum into the jar of peanut butter. The jar began to hiss and smoke violently in a chemical reaction. Remember, don't try to mix peanut butter and gum at home; it's dangerous. As soon as it cooled, the next annoying question was posed.

"How do we get it to the duck? As soon as we get in, it'll know we shouldn't be there and alert Fudgey." Bridgit scratched her head.

"House elves." Cora answered without missing a beat.

"Right! Fudgey lets the elves feed it." George remembered.

"Great! I'll do it!" Bridgit flounced over to a table and lifted a silver bell. With a ting-a-ling-a-ling, it rang to summon a house elf. Instants later, Frumpy appeared wearing her Hogwarts ™ doily.

"Wghaht carn eee dou fer eee?" Frumpy gurgled in a barely intelligible query.

"Ummm…can you feed this to the duck?" Bridgit asked, hoping she understood the elf properly.

"Hchokee. Eee wall dou eet." The house elf grabbed the peanut butter and hopped up the stairs.

Frumpy was no longer afraid of the duck. The house elves had fattened it up so that it could no longer antagonize them. After all, it could barely move. The bulgy duck monstrosity was barely contained by a cage of chicken wire. It breathed heavily, rasping every now and again under its own body weight. Frumpy approached the duck, who snapped its maw greedily at the prospect of food. With a cheerful and garbled hello, Frumpy began shoveling the peanut butter and gum into the duck's mouth. The duck ate without question until it could eat no more due to a stuck beak. Assuming that it was full, Frumpy then disappeared to the kitchen.

Hearing the crack of a disapparation, Bridgit and Cora stole up the stairs into the boy's dorm.

"Wait! You aren't supposed to be in the boy's dorm!" Some random twerp noted.

"Well…I am a boy." Cora offered lamely.

"I _knew_ it!" The boy exclaimed in euphoria.

He was then shoved out a window.

"Hey…I think you just killed someone." Bridgit dully noted.

"Don't worry. He landed in a dumpster, he's fine." Cora pressed onwards.

Bridgit looked down at the corpse receptacle that was labeled "sleepy time bin".

Following a line of gold spray paint drawn along the wall, they finally reached a doorway that had "Fudgey is da King" written in identical paint. With a nod, the two quietly entered. They were pleasantly surprised to find that the duck was in a coma or some other death-like state. Now they could steal in peace.

Suddenly, a great rumbling of thunder snapped them out of their sadistic reverie. Oh…wait…it was Fudgey snoring.

"KNSNCHRRRRRRLLLLLL!" Snored Fudgey.

"Well, he seems to be fairly out of it. Let's go raid his safety deposit box!" Cora cackled quietly.

"_Alohamora_!" Bridgit aimed a spell at the box.

"Get bent!" The box replied.

"It must be protected against spells." Cora whispered, wary of Fudgey, who groaned and turned over in his sleep.

"Look!" Bridgit pointed at Fudgey.

Around his neck, Fudgey wore the key to the safe deposit box (it had a sign on it).

"Tch! Let's just pick the lock." Cora shook her head, not wanting to engage in any more shenanigans.

"Righto!" Bridgit retrieved a bobby pin from her hair and picked away at the lock.

The lock was apparently alive and soon blood was dripping from the keyhole as it made choking noises. Finally, they were rewarded with a soft click as the lock fell to the ground with a splat and the lid popped open.

"Excellent." Cora pushed her friend aside and retrieved Merlin's graphitized cape.

"Let's get out of here!" Bridgit was not enjoying Fudgey's unique odour.

"Before we do…" Cora bent over his ear, "Fudgey, when you wake up, you will challenge Sammy to a duel!" Cora figured a legitimate chance to beat up Fudgey in public would be the best Christmas present ever.

"And put your duck on a diet." Bridgit added as they ran away.

Unbeknownst to them, Fudgey muttered a few moments later,

"Yes. I will duel and add the duck to my diet."


	18. He Went Quietly Into That Good Night

**Chapter Eighteen: He Went Quietly Into That Good Night**

Snape was dressed in a black flowing parka, scowling at all he beheld as he trudged through the deep drifts of snow. Not helping his mood at all were Tigris and Rose skipping behind him wearing only light jackets. He mournfully watched his breath escape in clouds as he conjured up some fire to keep himself warm. His scowl deepened at the frivolity of it all.

~Curses! Why must I be on outdoor supervision when there's virtually no one left to supervise? Except for stupid Potter and his cronies… and those two~ He cast a wary glance back to his entourage, who smiled brightly and waved in response. ~God, I hate them. Just a little drop of poison… no one would miss them… except for that damn Potter. Curses! He ruins everything.~

"Don't you just love winter Snape?" Rose called out to him.

"That's Professor Snape." He automatically corrected her and added a mark to his scorecard. Just one more infringement and he could give her detention again.

"Let's build a snowman!" Tigris cheered.

"Your hands are bare!" He growled at them.

"All the better for building with!" She countered.

"All the better for getting frostbite with." He muttered under his breath.

"Ugh. Grumpy and sour as usual." Rose sighed. "Well, I have a cure for that. Snowball fight!"

She quickly scooped and compacted a fair sized pile of snow and lobbed it at Snape. Because he was skinny, wretched, and already weighed down by his parka, he lost his balance and fell over as the snowball smushed into his chest.

"Argh! I am stuck in the snow!" He growled.

"Now let's bury him in the snow like they do on the beach with sand!" Tigris laughed.

"Okay!" Rose agreed.

"No!" Snape disagreed.

"Democracy wins!" Tigris stuck her tongue out at him as she shoved a large pile of snow on top of him. He was too skinny to resist.

"No! Stop it!" His face was turning red with rage, or perhaps from the cold snow.

"But you'll like it!" Rose smiled, piling on more snow and packing it down.

"No I will not! Get this God forsaken snow off of me or so help me, I'll-"

"There!" Tigris interrupted, planting a red flag on the mound of snow. "I christen thee Mt. Crghghhhllrgheghme." She butchered the French language.

"Wait, he needs a friend. He doesn't have any." Rose shared her brain thought with Tigris.

"Good point." Tigris nodded sagely.

"I'm right here! Stop talking about me! I hate you!" He screamed beginning to foam at the mouth - anger level turning orange.

"Fine then! We're only making a head." Tigris put her hands on her hips.

"Your friend doesn't get a body." Rose clarified. The girls made a rough, lumpy snowman head, gave it eyes of rock and an idiotic smile of twigs.

Snape's face turned purple and his anger level suddenly hit red. Then, his palette returned to its normal sallow shade and he gazed up at the sky in an almost catatonic way. In truth he had retreated into his mind. He was now full of perfect clarity and purpose as he entertained one single thought: Revenge! This went way beyond house points. It was now a matter of killing those damn ragamuffin girls.

~Oh…I'll get them. Oh yes. Get them good. They'll see… They'll all see! James, and Sirius and Potter and etc.~

He began to create a small pocket of open space near his left hand by slowly wiggling his fingers. Patiently, oh so patiently, he began the agonizing task of digging his left hand to his pocket to retrieve his wand. But Severus Snape was no stranger to long-term revenge. After all, he had waited all through his schooling career until eleven years after the birth of Harry Potter to be able to exact his revenge on James… through his son. This would be a cakewalk.

"We'll name your friend Baron Von Somethingcrap!" Rose cackled.

"We're banned from naming animals, but they never said anything about inanimate objects!" Tigris flaunted their loophole.

~A little more… just a little more…~ Snape was nearing his coat pocket.

"Hey girls, what are you doing?" Professor Summersong hailed as she approached leading what appeared to be a hamster ball on a leash.

"Nothing ~ !" The two chorused, standing quickly in front of what was visible of Snape.

"My, what a charming snowman!" Professor Summersong beamed.

"That's _Baron_ snowman to you!" Rose looked incensed.

Professor Summersong herself looked quite charming in her powder pink parka, fluffy white boots and pair of fuzzy white earmuffs to complete the look. On closer inspection, Rose realized there were claws sticking out of the boots so that they resembled bear feet. She laughed.

"Those are cute faux fur boots!"

Profesor Summersong laughed nervously.

"Yes. Faux fur."

Now Snape could have called for help at this point. However he was too far inside of himself planning his revenge to notice that Summersong was there. Besides, he wouldn't have been able to bear the humiliation of being at the mercy of little children… from Canada no less.

~Curses!~ he thought and dug faster.

"What's Onion Cop doing in this hamster ball?" Tigris inquired, having noticed the beastie floating around inside the magnetic ball. The ball was full of acid and Onion Cop twirled and whirled around playfully. The ball turning forced him to swim against the current, so he was able to get his exercise.

"He was looking a little pudgy, so I decided to take him out for some exercise. Apparently students have been feeding their essays to him as an excuse to avoid handing them in. Poor little guy… he's been getting too much fibre." Onion Cop started chewing on his tail.

"Awwwww." Tigris and Rose smiled at the hideous monster.

"Argh! Professor Summersong! Please come back!" They suddenly heard a voice call from afar. Turning around they noticed a short balding man trapped up to his neck in a snowdrift nearly on the other side of the grounds. Professor Summersong sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It looks like my new ministry toadie is having some difficulties. I'll be right back, please look after Onion Cop for me." She set out to rescue the painfully short ministry employee from his snowbound prison.

"Yay! It's our favorite nephew!" Tigris lifted the ball to look at the beast.

"Let's make snow trenches for him to roll in!" Rose suggested.

"Snow trenches of ice!"

Using a heat spell they melted the snow to build Onion Cop such an array of tunnels and slides as had never been seen before. For once, the two friends did not look like ogres and instead seemed like normal, happy children. Well… five year old children, but what did you expect from them? Watching their protégé zooming around the veritable amusement park they had constructed, it was easy to see them swell with pride. With such a joyous mood descending upon them, it was clear to all that something bad was about to happen.

That something was Peeves. He zoomed out over the field and, seeing happiness, had to destroy it. Much like Snape.

"Ha ha ha ha!" He cackled. "Looks like it's time for a game." He stuck out his tongue rudely, warming up his ghostly face muscles.

"Ugh! What are you doing here?" Rose eyed the prankster in disgust as he floated down to them.

"Nothing. Just wanted to play a game with you." He said bashfully.

"Really?" Tigris perked up. "What game would you like to play?"

Peeves' face split into an evil grin.

"A friendly game of croquet!" He accented the word "croquet" by striking Onion Cop's magnetic hamster ball with a ghostly croquet mallet, sending it soaring.

"Peeves!" Rose yelled in outrage.

"Onion Cop!" Tigris shrieked as their beloved protégé sailed through the air.

"Gaaaaaaaak!" Onion Cop screamed as the ball plummeted to earth. The hamsterball struck the icy surface of the lake, smashing through, and sank into its murky depths.

"Nooooo! The two girls cried.

Suddenly, the ball, propelled by buoyancy, bobbed back up to the surface with Onion Cop inside, unharmed.

"Onion Cop!" Tigris' face lit up.

"You're in SO much trouble!" Rose rounded on Peeves as Tigris hurried towards the lake to retrieve Onion Cop. "You're just lucky nothing bad-"

Suddenly there was a deep rumbling from beneath the ice and the water in the small hole became choppy and white.

"What the-" Rose began, but she was cut off again as the surface of the lake began cracking.

"Gaaaakkk!" Onion Cop howled as his hamsterball sploshed around in the churning water.

Then, in a freezing spray the gaint squid smashed through the ice and descended on Onion Cop, swallowing him whole before anyone could do anything. Then with a tiny splash, the squid returned to the bottom of the lake. There was a stunned silence.

"Onion Cop…" Tigris breathed.

"Peeves, I'm going to kill you!" Rose roared. Peeves only cackled.

"I'm already dead stupid!" He waggled his bottom at her.

"Then I'll do it again!_ Ignis Globulus!_" Rose screamed firing off a large ball of flame at the poltergeist. Peeves easily dodged the flame, laughing.

Their bout was interrupted when the giant squid once again suddenly floated up to the surface of the lake, this time dead.

"Whoa. That's some bitchin' heart burn." Peeves giggled and flew away.

Tigris and Rose looked skyward.

"Damn yooouuu!" They cried shaking their fists in the air.

"_Immobilus!_"

The two were suddenly frozen in place. A triumphant and pissed beyond belief Snape stormed up to them, grabbing them by the backs of their shirts.

"You…you two…" He seethed, boiling with rage. "Now I shall have my revenge."

There was a long pause. Then some more pauses. Having not thought this far ahead, Snape had no idea what to do next. After all, he won so infrequently.

Dropping them in the snow, Snape stormed up to their snowman, spat on it, kicked it over, and then stormed off in the direction of the castle.

"But we have to guard him." Tigris whined, still paralyzed from the neck down.

Professor Summersong, followed by her ministry toadie, rushed up to Rose and Tigris' prone forms. Casting the counter-curse on them, she then breathlessly asked,

"What happened girls?"

Watery-eyed, Tigris and Rose explained the whole situation surrounding Onion Cop's demise.

"Damn that Peeves! He's so damn destructive!" Summersong cursed more than necessary.

"Something must be done." Rose said darkly.

"For Onion Cop's sake. As well as the squid's, I suppose." Tigris added.

"Alright girls, I like the way you think. As of today we're starting an extra-curricular Dark Arts project." She smiled evilly. The two girls, instantly catching on, smiled back.

"That doesn't sound like something a good guy would do." The ministry toadie piped up.

"Oh! We're just going to write an angry letter to the school safety committee." Professor Summersong said in an innocent voice. "Followed by a legal petition to our Member of Assembly." She had forgotten he was there. He smiled at this reassurance.

"Oh, okay. That sounds safe and reasonable."

The three women cackled with glee. It would be an angry letter indeed.


	19. Ron and Hermoine Hook Up

**Chapter Nineteen: Ron and Hermione Hook Up**

"Christmas is coming!"

"Christmas is coming!"

"Christmas is here!"

"Today!"

"I wanna pony."

"Shut up." Sammy moaned and rolled over, not wanting to deal with these distasteful Christmas fairies.

"But I want presents!" Cora demanded with a spritely and yet threatening chuckle.

"I wanna pony!" Bridgit voiced her innermost desire of the minute. "Now I wanna gumshoe."

"Wow! Look!" Cora pointed.

"Presents!" Bridgit squealed in delight.

"You are supposed to be sleeping!" A high-pitched voice wailed.

A brigade of house elves froze while walking through the door, caught in the act and breaking the illusion of Hogwarts being a slavery-free establishment. Don't worry - it's not slavery… because they _like_ it.

The dorm residents had left their Christmas presents needing delivery in a giant, unorganized heap in the middle of the room. The house elves, clearly having better things to do, were forced to sort them into smaller piles by recipient. Some piles were large and others were pitifully small.

"This one doesn't have a name in it!" One of the house elves moaned in frustration.

"This one contains dangerous magical devices." Another elf noted, before neutralizing and destroying the present.

One elf looked exceedingly sad. "This one contains poo."

Once the Christmas sorting had finished, the piles of presents and house elves all disappeared with a loud crack.

"Where's our presents?" Cora demanded.

"They still have to deliver them. Didn't you listen to anything at the banquet?" Sammy muttered.

"Since when do we listen to anything anyone says ever?" Bridgit said pointedly.

"Right. I'm going to sleep. Please don't wake me until the morning." Sammy sighed, trying in vain to fluff her pillow.

Sammy, the poor fool, fell asleep once more…only to be awoken two hours later.

"Okay! It's morning now!" Bridgit pointed to her watch.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Cora quipped.

"No…it's too early. It's six in the morning."

"Hey guys! Christmas is here!" They heard Ron's voice through the wall.

"Yeah I know! Isn't it great?" Bridgit shouted back.

"Yeah! People gave me stuff this year! I guess it pays to have non-welfare friends!" Ron hurrahed.

"I guess I should get up." Sammy sighed, figuring it would be better to have an afternoon nap than try to sleep through hurricane Dumb and Dumber.

"Hurray!" The two cheered, ripping the presents out of the hands of the approaching house elf Christmas task force, and set to their presents with a vengeance.

They had obtained brand new outfits. It was Reagan's way of subtly telling them their clothes were ugly. Thankfully, the two really took a shine to the new clothes, so Reagan didn't have to out and tell them why they had received that particular gift.

"Wow! This new coat is awesome! It's white, it has tails and I can stab Bridgit with the pointy metal bits." Cora spun around in a circle, hitting Bridgit in the eyes.

"Ow! Why Reagan, WHY?" Bridgit wailed.

"Oh, Cora, do try to get along. It's Christmas." Sammy laughed at her young friend.

"Christmas is over! I already got my presents." Cora huffed.

"But what about next year?" Bridgit blinked to clear her eyes.

"What part of I'll cross that bridge when I come to it don't you understand?" Cora sighed.

"Well…my skirt is way more form fitting than your stupid jacket! I'm gonna attract all the hot boys." Bridgit crossed her arms.

"What hot boys?" Cora snickered.

Bridgit hung her head.

"I am sad."

Reagan, eavesdropping through the wall, smiled, happy to have brought them joy. It sure paid to know how to sew…magically!

Aware that they were all awake, the four then quickly reconvened in the common area to open presents together, free of gender division.

"Hey, you didn't get me leaves this year! You got me this snappy new head band!" Cora said to Sammy, snapping it at Bridgit's face.

"Ah! And all I have to defend myself with is this head bandana." Bridgit sobbed.

"Now let's see what I get this year." Reagan smiled, grabbing a nearby package as a distraction. Bridgit and Cora instantly stopped fighting and began to bounce in anticipation.

"Oh! How splendid. It's a turkey vase. This will be great for thanksgiving. And I'll put in especially pretty flowers because it's just that special." He didn't mention that maybe the flowers would make it feel less ugly.

"Now open mine!" Cora pressed.

"All right! Let's see what we have here." Reagan unwrapped the box and took out Cora's art. "Oh. It's a…."

"A cup!" Cora cheered, thankfully filling in the blank.

"Yes. And what a lovely cup it is. I'll use it to feed my baby tarantula in Care of magical creatures because it's too fat." He searched for some plausible use.

"Yay! We win at being nice!" Cora cheered.

"Look! Trex got us a present. And it's really big, but we have to share it. Let's open it now." Bridgit suggested, reading the tag of a large present they had brought from their room.

Before anyone could intervene on Reagan's behalf and save the wrappings, she savagely shredded the paper off of the large burlap sack. Her face lit up and Reagan's smile gained the added depth of repressed neuroticism.

"Donner Flakes!" Bridgit cheered.

"I LOVE Donner Flakes." Cora competed with her enthusiasm.

"Stupid reindeer." Sammy grinned.

"It reminds us of our forced labour vacations on the reindeer farm." Cora reminisced.

"Donner Flakes make us healthy!" Bridgit beamed, taking in the scent of ground-up left-over reindeer parts mixed with oats.

"Well, I guess it's my turn." Reagan smiled, changing the subject. "This one's from Sammy."

He deliberately unwrapped the paper such that he didn't rip it at all. He was one of those people who saved wrapping paper, even if the present is wrapped in a newspaper. He slid a small box out and opened the lid. His eyes widened in surprise. Nested in the forest green velvet box was a lovely man-bracelet made of finest aquamarine, custom made to match his single man-earring. Accessorizing is certainly not just for girls.

"Oh my!" He smiled, putting it on.

"It looks expensive!" Bridgit peered at it.

"I don't think she would have spent that much on it." He tittered, then caught himself and grunted in a somewhat manly way.

"Makes our presents look like crap." Cora muttered.

"And this one's from Harry to Reagan. House elves must have messed up. It's a big, pink, heart-shaped banjo with crystal rhinestones glued on it. I wonder why he would get you something like a banjo." Sammy wondered aloud, staring at the gaudy, pink, heart-shaped, rhinestone monstrosity.

"Oh. We told him Reagan played the banjo." Cora fessed up.

"Why?"

"I dunno. Sometimes I just do things."

Sammy shook her head. "Idiots."

"Let's give Sammy her present!" Bridgit leapt up, charged with excitement. "We hid it in Reagan's room so you wouldn't find it and so the house elves wouldn't take it back to its rightful owner!"

"Wait, what?"

Bridgit and Cora were off like a shot before anyone could make sense of what had just happened.

Not worried about running in on some poor, scantily-clad young man (as only three boys were staying over Christmas break in Gryffindor house), they barged into the room like a veritable monsoon. The Christmas weather was turbulent indeed. Taking a leap, Bridgit flew through the air to land on Reagan's bed.

"Ooof!" Cora, not used to planning, had landed on top of Bridgit.

"Get up! It's just under the bed!" Cora shouted.

"I think you broke my spleen." Bridgit moaned.

"…Merry Christmas!" Cora laughed.

"I think that wins for worst Christmas present ever" Sammy sighed, folding her arms across her ample chest as she and Reagan brought up the rear. "I'd have to ask you to give me the gift of silence and not pain."

"No! We got you this!" Cora shoved a package, crappily wrapped in the rolled up parchment you were supposed to use for assignments, into Sammy's face.

"We wrapped it ourselves!" Bridgit gwaffawed. "No house elf labour for your present!"

"How lovely." Sammy became dry like a harsh and barren Snape as Reagan smiled and said,

"How lovely."

With all the fury of a raging river, Sammy tore open the package like a hungry wolf would tear open another nature simile that represents the present. She stared at its contents in confusion. Then she raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell?"

She held in her hands a black cape. It read: "Sammy is da King." She could only surmise that they had sprayed over Fudgey's name with black spray paint and then sprayed on her own name. She sighed. Now if anyone else ever figured out whose cape this was, the blame for its horrendous defacement would lie squarely on her shoulders. What a wonderful present.

"Thank you." She said stiffly, caught between joy at Fudgey's loss and sadness at her own future incarceration.

Reagan frowned.

"You were the ones who stole Fudgey's cape? Then I can only imagine it's your fault that he ate his duck and dueled Harry!"

"Hey! Why would you automatically jump to that conclusion?" Cora was offended.

"Ate the duck? I said to put it on a diet and for him to duel Sammy!" Bridgit spluttered. "Now part two of our Christmas present to Sammy is ruined!"

Sammy was simultaneously touched at the effort they had gone to for her and horrified at the extent to which they would go to cause someone she disliked bodily harm. Could they be sociopaths?

"I hope he ate it a l'orange. Peking is over-rated." Cora sighed.

"I dunno," Bridgit looked pensive for a moment. "If it were me, I'd wanna go a la King."

No…they were just stupid.

"We had to track him down and run halfway over creation to make sure that Harry didn't get killed during that duel!" Reagan, strangely shifting roles with Sammy, berated the two.

"Well…not like Fudgey actually stood a chance." Sammy admitted.

"You two are supposed to be _protecting_ him. Not putting him directly into harm's way!" Reagan continued.

"No, no. _Snape's_ our responsibility now. Harry's your problem." Bridgit corrected him, as if trying to bring up something that would help the situation.

"Hey! Wait a minute! Where's my present from you?" Cora interjected, turning to Bridgit.

"Oh yeah!" She started rifling through her pockets. "The house elves didn't wrap it for some reason…" She muttered.

"Gimme! Gimme! It must have been too good for them to touch with their grubby little fingers!" Cora perked up instantly, like a cup of NaBob's.

"Here you go! I thought it was pretty!" Bridgit offered forth a rock of epic proportions. Well…not really. It was just a rock.

"Oh, is my face red! I got you the exact same present." Cora laughed a bit and handed Bridgit an ugly, lumpy rock.

"It's so beautiful!" Bridgit breathed, petting her new rock. "I'll go put it with the other ones you gave me." She shoved it back into her pocket.

"I promise to use my present well." Cora sagely informed her friend.

Then, she chucked it at the back of Ron, who was also in the room now.

"Oww! Crickey!" Ron rubbed his bottom. "What did you do that for?"

"It's tradition. The first rock of the year must be thrown at someone." Cora hastily made something up.

"At someone who is a new friend." Bridgit added, and threw her rock at him as well.

"OW! Stop it!" Ron started crying.

"But it's not the New Year's yet." Harry, who is also there now, pointed out.

"It is in Canada." Cora lied.

"Oh…" Harry hung his head, saddened that they seemed to like Ron better than him.

"If you guys were ever given truth serum, you'd be so screwed." Sammy sighed. "Although, that will make up for part two." She whispered to the two of them.

"Tee hee!" Bridgit and Cora giggled, happy to have given the best present ever.

"Let's see what I got from Reagan!" Sammy grabbed the present from him and tore it open, not even bothering to admire the beautiful floral wrapping paper. Reagan died a little on the inside. "A new pair of boots!"

Sammy took a look at the shiny leather pair of foot protectors.

"But my old boots are fine." She protested.

"Ummm…" Reagan chose to ignore the decrepit state of Sammy's old boots. "But these ones have steel toes!"

The boots, previously a handsome shade of dark brown had become light tan with dirt and damaged leather. The shoelaces were completely unraveled and the only things keeping them together were hopes and dreams. In fact, only the memory of Sammy's feet ingrained into the souls of the boots themselves were keeping them on her feet. They also smelled vaguely of the great outdoors, but mostly of mud. The rubber bottoms were partially detached, causing her to be easily identified by the annoying squeaking and flapping as she sauntered by.

"Hmmm. That _is_ pretty cool and I sure could use those." Sammy admitted, remembering many a foot-stomping administered by Bridgit and Cora, Doctors of pain.

"Well, I guess we should head out for breakfast now." Reagan suggested. "Give me a moment to put on my new man-bracelet and powder my nose."

"Pfft! Yeah right!" Bridgit laughed, heading out. "There's food to be eaten."

"We'll save you a spot." Sammy offered apologetically as they departed.

Reagan hid a bemused chuckle as the three left. They were some kinda womenfolk.

A few minutes later our justice friends were all assembled at the breakfast table to enjoy an even more ridiculous feast than usual. Cora was poring through a book while eating breakfast. It was called "The King of the Smurfs" and was about a Smurf who took over the village after Papa Smurf left on a trip. Said smurf ruled with an iron fist. The large print and pictures made it particularly easy to understand.

"Wow. This book really speaks to me." She continued reading, amazed at the depths contained within its earthen pages.

"This book isn't exactly a barrel of stupidness either." Bridgit poured through Plato's "Theaetetus", although the book was upside-down.

"That's right…" Cora patted her friend on the head. It was cute when she pretended to retain things.

"Oooh! Porridge!" Bridgit reached for a bowl of porridge that Ron was eating.

"Oy! That's mine!" Ron tugged back to defend his breakfast.

"Here Bridgit! Over here! Look what I have with me." Reagan held up a steaming bowl of healthy goodness.

"DONNER FLAKES!" Bridgit cheered, and descended upon the bowl.

"It's just like the old days." Reagan sighed. "They seem to get dumber every time they're around food."

"Can't talk. Eating." Sammy clutched her bowl of cereal ever closer in a possessive gesture.

"I'm just going to keep eating my grapefruit." Reagan sighed.

Suddenly, a large envelope fell on his head.

"Ugh! Stupid post owls." Reagan muttered, begrudgingly offering some sickles to the damn bird.

"Who's it from?" Harry, the only one not turned stupid by eating (because he was starved so much as a child) queried.

"It's from my family!" Reagan's face lit up.

"Family? But I thought surely only such a being could have come to be by the hands of angels." Harry attempted to profess his undying love with a pick-up line he had read in The Daily Prophet Sun edition.

However, Reagan ignored him, having started reading the letter.

"Oh…I'm so lonely." Harry whimpered.

"Don't worry, Harry!" Hermione consoled him.

"Yeah, you've got us." Ron offered a dashing, cheerful smile.

Hermione gasped, looking at Ron in shock and amazement.

"That's exactly what I was going to say." She breathed.

"It's like we have some sort of connection." Ron stared at the young woman before him, wide-eyed.

Pushing Harry out of the way, Ron stole his seat and began a fierce game of tonsil hockey with Hermione. Harry climbed dejectedly into Ron's former seat.

"Only the good and beautiful die young." He tried to make himself feel better.

"But then won't Hermione and Ron live together happily ever after because they're both ugly and you won't be there to bother them?" Cora followed his train of logical thought to its natural conclusion.

"Ow!" His eyes watered.

"Don't worry, Harry!" Bridgit tried to help in Ron fashion. "You're not beautiful. At all."

Like Ron's help, it also did nothing to better the situation.

"So, Reagan, how's your family doing?" Sammy changed the subject, taking the thick rope Harry was using to tie a hangman's knot away from him.

"Oh, my Mom's feeling better! The new medicine seems to be working this time. Dad couldn't be happier. This is the first time our family has had a real holiday ever since the illness. He is home for all of Christmas and New Year's. And my brothers Willi-yum and Stephauughn made a special present for Mom together. It's nice to see that they're getting along for once. And look! They sent a picture."

She held up a picture of garden slugs. There was a moment of stunned silence during which Hermione and Ron stopped freeing their repressed passions for each other and Harry's spoon dropped from his mouth, making a mess on his bib.

"Har har har!" Bridgit, feeling nostalgic, reverted to pirate laughter.

"Oh Reagan, your family's so funny." Cora giggled.

"Yeah. That 'What If' machine is priceless." Sammy slapped her knee.

"Yeah! This garden slug picture is even better than the time they made a picture of 'what if we were British'!" Reagan stopped suddenly, remembering where he was. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked affronted. "Did I say British? I meant French!"

"Ha ha ha!" The two Hs and one R laughed.

"Stupid French people!" Hermione rubbed tears from her eyes.

"I'm French-Canadian." Sammy muttered through clenched teeth.

"Let it go, Sammy." Cora patted her shoulder. "It's just the history talking."

"Pfft! Whatever." Sammy sulked.

"Hey! Did you get any letters from family?" Ron piped up, emerging from his pile of family letters that had just been delivered by a fleet of post owls.

"Yeah! Everyone gets letters on Christmas." Hermione prompted, causing Harry to start crying.

"No." Cora glared.

"We don't have any." Bridgit added.

"Any what? Letters or family?" Harry whimpered, looking in the wrong place for a support group.

"Both."

"Me neither! Group hug!" Harry dove at them.

Bridgit and Cora leapt nimbly out of the way and Harry got a heaping helping of cobblestone creamed corn.

"Ow my teeth!" Harry moaned.

"They look better now." Sammy muttered under her breath, still bitter about the French joke.

"I love Christmas. The spirit of giving and joy should be with all of us." Reagan pretended to naturally say. He was then ignored.

Suddenly, his hair turned oatmeal coloured and assumed a lumpy texture as a bowl was over turned on his head by some spectral force.

"Ugh!" Reagan wiped the oatmeal dripping on his face off.

"He he he he he did it!" Peeves laughed/blamed someone else from where he had hid himself in a chandelier.

"PEEVES!" Sammy leapt to her feet. _"Pyxisidis reteis_!"

"Now if only you'd tried that several hundred years ago. Then it would have worked." Peeves laughed rudely. "As it is, I feel mildly violated. I'm leaving!" Peeves offered an unusually eloquent farewell, but fell back to his old style of humor as he farted loudly on the way out.

Bridgit and Cora stood abruptly, knocking the chairs they had been sitting on over.

"We have to go do something now." Cora looked frighteningly serious.

"Take care of the little ones." Bridgit threw a napkin at the oatmeal-covered Ron and Harry (they were wresting for half a pimento loaf).

Sammy shook her head, not happy at all.

"This does not bode well."


	20. The Exorcism Part1 Death Visits Hogwarts

**The Exorcism Part I: Death Visits Hogwarts**

Professor Summersong was hunched over a role of parchment, reading an untidy scrawl across its paper face.

_I wish I were a vampire. If I were a vampire I could eat Professor Snape. Then he'd be my slave and I could make him give me 100% in potions. Also, I like the colour black. It goes well with my hair…which is also black. In closing, I hate Snape._

She shook her head and rubbed her temples.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, but then you'd have to bite him." She sighed as she scrawled a huge F minus minus on his paper with a large felt marker. "It seems that your fame is aptly named. You truly are the boy who lived."

Quite unexpectedly, the doors to her office flew open and slammed into the wall. Bridgit and Cora burst into the room like explosive explosives.

"Professor Summersong! Professor Summersong!" Two voices shouted in unison.

"It's about time you girls got here. I thought you'd forgotten about our plan."

Professor Summersong pushed Harry's awful paper into the fire along with Ron and Replacement Crabbe's, which had gotten an E for effort. [Ron: _I think being a vampire is good. Sometimes I stay up at night and watch Harry and pretend I'm him. If I were a vampire, this would be normal because they can stay up all night. Then I wouldn't have to go to school and could sleep through potions. In closing, if I hurt my head, too, will people think I'm cool? _Replacement Crabbe:_ MY NAME IS GOYLE-RILLA FLAVA-FLAVE JR. VAMPIRE IS YES. I HAVE POINTY TEEF._]

"We did forget." Bridgit admitted.

"But then we remembered." Cora muttered, silently cursing Peeves.

"Right, then. For Onion Cop." Professor Summersong grinned.

"Right!" Bridgit cheered.

"What do we need to do?" Cora tilted her head to the side.

"Glad you asked. I've decided to make this an extra-curricular assignment for you two. If you succeed, it will replace your worst mark which, like everyone else, is your vampire paper." Professor Summersong gestured to a pile of papers and ashes.

"But mine was awesome!" Cora protested.

[Cora: _Vampires suck! I'm way better than they are. I can go out in the sun and eat spaghetti with garlic in it without feeling any discomfort at all. Also, I dress nicer. I wear white and that means I'm good. If they want to change their image so badly, they should stop wearing black. And those stupid frilly collars…those are dumb. When we have an interview with the vampire, I'm gonna throw seeds on the ground to see what'll happen. Sammy said I shouldn't because his head would explode, but I think it'll be funny. In closing, why haven't you given me an A yet?_

Bridgit: _Vampire. Flying through the night, impermeable mist of darkness gliding past the sunset. Skimming over shallow water to feed on the milk of honey angels. Protecting the weak from the weaker by eating small mammals. The magestic cry of the ocelot breaking the dawn. Sunrise. Sunrise. Burning bright. Now I am on fire. The end._]

"Not really, dear. The assignment was to write a synopsis of a biography of a famous vampire and why he or she contributed significantly to muggle history." Professor Summersong calmly explained.

"But there were no cool ones worthy of my paper." Cora objected.

"Well, then you'd better get cracking on this extra-curricular assignment. Once you think you've found a way to get rid of Peeves, come back and show it to me and we'll go from there." She instructed them.

"Done and done!" Cora folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh?" Professor Summersong raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Watch!" Cora took out a phial of water and started throwing it all over the place.

"The power of Christ compels you!"

"No, dear, that won't work. You're not a member of the clergy."

"So…then we just have to find a priest?" Bridgit smiled.

"I'll leave it up to you two. See what you can come up with." Prof. Summersong smiled knowingly and ushered them out so she could finish marking the papers. She picked up the next paper and sighed.

"'Why I think Snape is a Vampire'…oh, Mr. Longbottom."

* * *

"This'll be easy!" Cora grinned. "We'll just phone a church!"

"Ummm…there aren't any phones here. And they wouldn't work anyway." Bridgit pointed out.

"Yeah? Well how about 'shut up!'?" Cora retorted.

"Well, now what are we going to do?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"I guess we should go check stuff out at the library." Cora gave in.

"Library. AWAYYYYY!" Bridgit shouted, charging down the hallway.

Arriving at the library shortly thereafter, they discovered a secret cove of books. It was a whole room called the library.

"I've never been in here before." Cora stated conversationally.

"Look! Harry, Hermione, Ron, Sammy and Reagan are sitting at a table over there. Let's ignore them." Bridgit suggested.

"HEY GUYS!" Ron bellowed, waving his arms madly. "OVER HERE!"

"SHUT UP!" The librarian screamed. "Why won't you kids leave me alone? You already killed Stiney the Spineback," she held up a broken book, "he is the only one who ever loved me. Just let me rot in peace!" Madame Prince then broke down and started sobbing.

Stepping over her shaking form, Bridgit and Cora quietly approached the table.

"What are you guys doing here?" Bridgit made conversation.

"Oh, we're just researching Canada." Hermione said brightly.

"Why such a broad topic?" Cora raised an eyebrow.

"We're trying to discover if Canada has anything of strategic value to Britain. There has to be some reason you were targeted by Voldemort's armies." Harry explained. "So far we haven't found anything. Not even a single book about your country."

"But you're pretty much the same as America, right? So I've been reading this book about America and, by the bye, I haven't found anything in these books about rock-throwing on the New Year, or that the New Year is even on a different day." Ron confronted the two.

"CANADA'S TOTALLY DIFFERENT!" Cora foamed at the mouth, then felt like apologizing.

"Oh. Okay then." Ron scooted away from her.

"Oh, Ron, you truly are the Patrick." Bridgit patted him on the back.

"Is Patrick a name for good chum?" Ron sought to verify his query.

"Yes. Yes it is." Cora continued her tradition of falsehoods.

"I'm starting to get the hang of this Canadian thing." Ron patted himself on the back.

"What are you two doing here? Isn't there someone you're forgetting?" Sammy prompted the two.

"No, I don't think so." Bridgit drew a blank.

"Oh…didn't we have extra potions detentions?" Cora suddenly said.

"No. I don't think we did." Bridgit shook her head.

"Ahem! You know. Detentions." Reagan looked meaningfully at her.

"Uhh…Now I'm not sure. We'd better go check. C'mon Cora." Bridgit sighed.

"Good luck. Hope it's not too bad." Ron offered as they headed out.

* * *

"Do we really have detention?" Bridgit asked as they walked down the hallway.

"No, you idiot. We have to guard Snape, remember?" Cora smacked her up-side the head.

"Oh yeah…him. You know, I think Harry and Neville wrote their vampire essays about him." She mentioned in a conversational way.

"What? Snape's not a famous vampire worthy of mention in a paper. He just became a teacher. Even if he had immortal life, look at how he's wasted it."

"Sydney, we're hooooome!" Bridgit waltzed into Snape's office, where he had been preparing a potion with deliberate delicacy.

The loudness caused him to drop his everything into the cauldron. The potion exploded into his face and turned his eyes into beets. Canned laughter erupted throughout the room.

"Ahhhh! My eyes are beets!" He screamed, running around in circles. "FIVE HUNDRED POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"

He ran into a wall with a resounding smack. The potion, short-lived even if made improperly, wore off and his eyes returned to normal.

"Hi, Professor Snape! We're here!" Cora waved at him.

"Why? Why can't you give me the Christmas present of solitude?" He complained bitterly.

"Because Christmas is the time of family gatherings…and your family's trying to kill you." Bridgit explained.

"Hey…Sammy wanted solitude for Christmas too! It must be popular this year." Cora beamed.

"Stole my line, did she? Twenty points from Ravenclaw." Snape grumped.

"Hey, Professor Snape, how would you exorcise a poltergeist?" Bridgit decided to be blunt.

"What?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"It's an extra-cirricular assignment. We were going to look it up in the library, but Sammy and Reagan made us leave and come here." Cora explained.

"Her again, hmmm? Twenty more points from Ravenclaw." Snape frowned.

"Well, we figure you like defense against the dark arts, right? So you could probably tell us how to exorcise a poltergeist." Bridgit put on her most winning smile.

All she won was contempt.

"Why should I help you?" Snape sneered at them. "I see no compelling reason, as you two have been a constant thorn in my side such that I would take no greater pleasure than to make your life as difficult as possible through petty meanness and passive aggressive tactics."

"It's nice to see you're so concerned about our well-being." Cora sighed.

"We want to get rid of Peeves." Bridgit laid all their cards on the table.

"You think we haven't already tried that? If it could have been, it would have been done by now." Snape sourly turned back to his work.

"Really? Because Dumbledore seems kind of lazy when it comes to these things. I mean, he put children in charge of guarding you, and children in charge of guarding Harry, and Harry in charge of solving all the mysteries in the castle for the past four years. Maybe he just never tried and you guys assumed he had."

"Miss Willowstaff, I highly doubt that the previous administrators wouldn't have tried to get rid of Peeves either." Snape shut a cupboard door that she had been rifling through, just missing her fingers.

"You're just not telling us because you don't know." Cora crossed her arms defiantly.

"Yeah, Professor Summersong said you wouldn't know." Bridgit added in an offhanded sort of way.

"What? And after I lent her my robes? That wench!" Snape hissed.

"Well, if you tell us, that would show her." Cora tried to bait him.

"Your faith my intelligence is appalling. I would fall for that no sooner than I would accept Harry Potter as my own adopted son."

"Really? Because if he was your kid, then you could make his life extra miserable." Cora looked pensive.

"Yeah! You could not let him hang out with his friends during the summer and make him be a doctor instead of a quidditch player." Bridgit added.

Snape looked pensive, but only for a moment.

"Your loyalties are certainly very fleeting." He commented. "However, my answer still stands - on both issues – as no."

There was such a finality about this statement that they knew there was no point in arguing with him.

"But why not?" Cora whined.

"Because I said so."

"I most vehemently protest!" Cora wailed, switching strategies to using adult words.

"I hear a detention with someone's name on it. Keep pressing your luck and you'll find out who it is." Snape clenched his teeth, securing them on their path to becoming nubbins.

"Is it Bridgit?" Cora piped up.

"No…it's-"

Suddenly, a cascade of water fell onto Snape. He spluttered, his eyes wide and his face livid, as Peeves cackled from the ceiling.

"PEEVES!" He roared.

"Ha ha ha ha! Stupid!" Peeves waggled his bottom at Snape.

"Argh…it itches…what is this, Peeves?" Snape demanded.

"It said 'acid' on the bottle, so I thought it would turn you into an ass. Mission accomplished. Ha ha ha!" Peeves then left the room.

"I need to go take a chemical shower. When I get back, I will tell you everything I know. But I must go now…for it burns." Snape ran out the door.

"Wow. Acid burns. That's serious." Cora commented in disinterest.

"Well, at least he's going to tell us the answer so we don't have to figure it out for ourselves." Bridgit sighed in relief. "I was pretty sure we'd never get him to spill the beans."

* * *

"So, what we figured out is that Peeves must be a poltergeist because of a past wrong. All we have to do is figure out what happened to him, fix it and then he'll pass on to the afterlife and we'll never be bothered by him again." Bridgit summed it up.

"That's not what I said at all." Snape muttered under his breath.

"Oh yeah, you said something about how it's likely too bad to ever be fixed, but there's no such thing as never." Cora pshawed him.

"Therein lies the problem, girls." Professor Summersong changed the topic. "Obviously Peeves will not submit to an interview, so we must use other means to discover who he could possibly be and why he's haunting the castle."

"Do you really think I'm a horrible defense against the dark arts teacher?" Snape suddenly blurted out.

"Well, Severus, I don't know what would give you that idea, no one else in the school is as frightening as you are. No, I think you're perfectly suited for the job." She quietly tucked an application for potion's master into her desk drawer.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor." Snape muttered under his breath.

"Back to the topic at hand! There is a way to find out." Summersong looked pensive, "But it's fairly dangerous and I don't have access to the materials we'd need to do this."

"Do you mean the power of a name?" Snape asked incredulously. "That's easy!"

"No, but we first need to know Peeves' real name before we can use that." Summersong inclined her head darkly.

"You mean…we have to summon-"

"Turkeys?" Bridgit interjected, getting caught up in the drama and not finding the patience to stay quiet.

"No, girls. We have to summon Death." Summersong gravely explained. "He's the only one who can tell us what Peeves' real name is. The spell we need to do relies on the power that comes from knowing a ghost's real name. If we cast the spell, we can compel Peeves to reveal everything about his past."

"Cool!" Bridgit and Cora chorused, rather enthused.

"Not cool!" Snape acid-rained on their parade. "It's highly dangerous and only the stupid wizards of yore have attempted it."

"We're stupid!" Cora beamed.

"I can't argue with that." Snape admitted. "Tigerlily, I know what we need to do and I am willing to do this in order to get rid of that asshole, Peeves."

"Are you sure, Severus? You likely know better than any of us the risks involved." Summersong gave Snape a level stare. "Everyone needs to be very sure that they want to do this – this could potentially be fatal if we make any mistakes.

"Cut the drama! He already said 'yes'. Let's go." Cora huffed impatiently.

"Alright then. What do you need us to do?" Summersong asked Snape.

"We need a fifth agent. It's a necessary role that only requires a warm body to be there." Snape explained.

"So in other words, we need to find someone who will participate without asking any questions and then forget about it later?" Professor Summersong summed it up.

There was a brief pause, interrupted simultaneously by everyone present.

"Trelawney!" Bridgit and Cora exclaimed as Snape and Summersong chorused, "Sybill!"

"Right. So two of us will round up Sybill while two of us gather the necessary components. I suppose you'll have to gather the materials, Severus, and I shall have to be in the group that gets Sybill. Which of the two would you prefer to accompany you?"

"Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!" Bridgit and Cora jumped up and down.

"Well, of the two of you I find you overall to be less repulsive and lippy." Snape grabbed Bridgit by the arm and briskly ushered her from the room.

"I'm going on an adventure!" They heard her voice trailing down the hallway.

* * *

"So…it sounded like you already knew what to do to get rid of Peeves." Cora gave Professor Summersong a sideways glance.

"Yes I did, but I figured that it would be a good learning experience for you two to have to rely on yourselves."

"But…we didn't do anything! And you must have known we wouldn't. I mean, c'mon. It's us!"

Professor Summersong laughed airily.

"You're right. I shouldn't have lied. I knew we'd need Severus in order to obtain crucial potion ingredients and it seemed to me that, if anyone could convince him, it was not me. So I was going to try to steal the ingredients while you distracted him, but this just worked out so much better."

Cora stared at her a moment.

"You…you…used us?" Cora looked at her teacher in disbelief.

"Guilty!" She tittered.

"You're my hero!" Cora bowed before her recognized superior.

"Alright, Cora. Let's go get Professor Trelawney." Professor Summersong sighed.

"How are we gonna get her to come?" Cora puzzled.

"Don't worry, I have a plan." Professor Summersong smiled weakly.

They entered the misty classroom.

"Ahhh, Tigerlily." A voice floated up to them.

"Hello, Sybill." Summersong forced a smile on her face.

"What brings you to this neck of the school?" Trelawney queried deliriously.

"Uh…I was going to have a Schnapps party with Professor Snape and some students. Would you care to join us? I'm not sure whether you like alcohol or not, but I know for myself it's always nice to partake every now and again, hmmm?" She held the bottle to one side enticingly.

"Well, I don't usually drink, but my horoscope said I should go for more social events. Just let me grab my outing shawl." She shuffled over to a closet and opened the door.

A cascade of liquor bottles poured out, creating a noisy din.

"We'll just…wait outside." Professor Summersong stood in front of Cora to block her view.

"What? What's happening?" Cora tried to peek.

"Oh this? These are just empty bottles I've been collecting from Hogsmeade's pub for a class project I'm going to do with my seventh years." Trelawney explained.

"Yes, I'm sure they are." Professor Summersong pulled Cora outside.

They were joined shortly by Trelawney.

"Right, let's go." Trelawney fell down the rope ladder.

"She'll work perfectly." Professor Summersong shook her head in amazement.

* * *

"Okay! So what do I need to do?" Bridgit offered her help.

"Hold this." Snape shoved one of the jars of slimy things at her.

"Ehhhh…okay." She tried to hide her disgust.

"That creature contains the bones we'll need to make the chalk. This," he handed her some rough lumps of chalk, "will contain the bones and blood."

"The blood? What blood?" Bridgit asked, eyes wide.

"I'll explain that later. Go catch a moth and put it in this jar." Snape thurst another jar, this time empty, at her.

Bridgit placed the jar of an icky thing on a nearby workbench and briefly pondered where she could find a moth in the middle of the day. Snape rifled through a nearby cupboard, obviously looking for something he was having difficulty finding.

"Where is it…" he muttered. "Ugh. Stupid potions. Uhhh…I mean. You didn't hear that."

"You don't like potions?" Bridgit gasped.

"Why the hell did you think I was trying to get the defence against the dark arts teaching position?" He snapped irately.

"Oh. Okay. Say, Professor Snape, where am I going to find a moth in the middle of the day?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"I don't care. Just go find one and hurry back!" He turned back to the cupboard. "Ah, here's where the lacewings are."

Not wanting to evoke his wrath, Bridgit began searching around the room for a moth. She noticed a large armoire and opened the door. It was full of dark, flowing robes and some moths that were eating the dark, flowing robes. Taking a quick look to make sure Snape hadn't seen the state of his wardrobe, Bridgit captured one of the moths in the glass jar and quietly closed the armoire door.

"I found one!" She trotted back to the workbench and added the jar to the assembled collection of knick-knacks.

"This is the last thing we need." Snape pulled a wicked-looking dagger out of a drawer.

"What's that?" Bridgit admired the shiny, ebony blade.

"It's the cursed dagger of the dark wizard Koris Nighthelm, the first wizard to successfully summon death."

"Where did you get something like that?"

"Normally I wouldn't dignify you with a response, but I'm so proud of this one. I got it from Hagrid. I traded it for a stupid dog I found one day." Snape smiled in satisfaction.

"How did Hagrid get it?" Bridgit couldn't believe that the groundskeeper could have something so sinister.

"I don't care. I have it now." He slammed it onto the table. "We're going to make the chalk right now because I hate all of you and the less time I spend with the fewest of you, the better. I need you to get the bones out of that," Snape pointed at the icky thing, "while I grind up the chalk and lacewings."

"How come you get the easy job?" Bridgit moaned.

"It must be ground in a particular way that you would certainly be incapable of duplicating. Now stop whining and get to work." Snape began grinding up the chalk with a mortar and pestle. Obviously venting his pent up aggression, he was pounding the hell out of it while silently crying.

_He's right…I couldn't have duplicated that._ Bridgit noted in silent admiration of his potion skillz.

Bridgit grimaced and unscrewed the lid from the jar, dumping the icky thing out onto the table. Luckily, the icky thing only seemed to have two bones. Reaching into the gelatinous mass, she retrieved them. She shuddered and wiped the slime off on her pants.

"Much better." She let out a sigh.

"Give it here now!" Snape held out his hand impatiently.

"Glad to get rid of 'em!"

They went into the mortar.

"Now…" Snape picked up the dagger, "I'm going to need that blood."

"Where are you going to get that?" Bridgit asked. "This thing doesn't have any blood. It's just goo."

The only response she got was the glint of the dagger as it was raised above her head.

* * *

"What are you doing? STOP!"

"That sounded like Bridgit!" Cora turned to face the corridor. "I'm coming, buddy!" She raced down the hallway.

"Oh, I knew something would go wrong. Although, I must admit I'm surprised it didn't involve you." Professor Summersong sighed, noting that Professor Trelawney was halfway through the Schnapps already.

"What? Oh sorry, dear, I started the party without you." She sleepily apologized.

"Don't worry about it. I'm going to run up ahead. Meet us in the potions dungeon. That's where the real party is." Summersong deftly lied as she raced to catch up with Cora.

"Meet you there!" Trelawney continued stumbling towards the dungeon.

* * *

"Just what is going on in here?" Professor Summersong demanded as she burst into the dungeon.

"He's finally Snaped! I mean…snapped!" Cora shouted, wrestling to get a dagger away from Snape.

"He cut me!" Bridgit held up her palm, which bled from a small scratch, as proof.

"Severus, is this true?" Professor Summersong looked at her colleague in mild interest.

"If you would give me a chance to explain and get her to get off of me!" Snape growled, too scrawny to put up much of a fight.

"Cora, let him get up." Summersong sighed in annoyance.

"But-"

"Just do it."

"Fine." Cora pouted, letting the disheveled professor regain his feet.

"I need the blood of an innocent to complete the chalk mixture." Snape explained.

"Why couldn't you have said that before trying to cut me?" Bridgit protested.

"That's not how I operate." Snape obstinately replied.

"Well, if you needed blood, why didn't you just use your o- oh god! Oh. Ew." Professor Summersong suddenly looked like she had just swallowed the icky thing. "Oh, Merlin, no."

"Shut up, Tigerlily! Not _that_ kind of innocence!" Snape bellowed.

"We don't get it!" Bridgit and Cora chorused.

"We're not explaining." Summersong hid her face in her hands.

"I will. I need to add the blood of someone with an innocent _mind_. You hear that, Tigerlily, _mind_! Clearly **you** wouldn't have qualified."

"Oh…well then I guess Bridgit _is_ the only eligible one." Professor Summersong agreed.

"I don't have a problem with giving blood, just _ask_ next time!" Bridgit sulked, Clutching her Canada Blood Services donor card in her hands as proof. "I fully expect to be compensated with cookies and orange juice."

"There's no time!" Snape avoided the joy of giving.

"I'm dizzy." Bridgit grumbled.

"Just hold out your hand." Snape grabbed her wrist and held her palm over the mortar.

He cut her palm and let enough blood fall to colour the chalk a deep red. After this had happened, he cast a simple healing spell.

"There. Now stop complaining." He muttered, grinding up the mixture some more.

He resumed his violent mixing of the ingredients and appeared to be silently and skillfully casting a spell that involved more crying. Bridgit strained her ears and thought she caught strings of "…curse you…" and "…James Potter…". In response to this magic, the chalk obediently formed itself into a cylinder.

"Sorry I'm late! I got a little lost." Professor Trelawney staggered into the room.

"I see she wasted no time in starting the party." Professor Snape smirked.

"Just sit over there, Sybill. No... farther than that." Professor Summersong pointed to a distant stool.

Snape began to draw something on the ground.

"Tigerlily, I need you to arrange the candles in a standard omega formation and light them." Snape bossed her around.

She said nothing in response and set about her task with her mouth pressed into a firm line. They had to be very careful about how they did this, or they were liable to get in a lot of trouble. Bridgit and Cora, sensing the serious nature of the situation, kept silent. Professor Trelawney, oblivious to all, continued…partying.

"What is about to transpire here must never leave this room." Professor Snape turned to Bridgit and Cora, mincing his words. "You must swear never to speak of this again."

"Not even at parties?" Professor Trelawney piped up from the back.

"Especially not at parties!" He barked. "Not like you'll remember tomorrow morning anyway…"

"I swear." Bridgit said solemnly.

Cora spat into the palm of her hand.

"I double-secret swear!" She held out her hand for a handshake.

"…" Snape eyed her hand in disgust.

"Don't leave me hanging, man!" Cora pleaded.

"That's _Professor_ man. And shut up." Snape turned to Summersong. "This ritual involves casting two of the unforgivable curses."

"Is this what the moth is for, then? The sacrifice of a life taken against its will?" Summersong put two and two together.

"Something like that. Luckily there is a loophole that doesn't specify what kind of life it must be. Death isn't choosy."

"Well, if I'm going to break the law, I might as well do it with gusto!" Summersong shrugged her shoulders. "I'll be in charge of the killing curse."

Snape raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then regained his regular surly expression.

"Very well, then." He turned to face Trelawney.

"You, Sybill Trelawney, are to be the seer. Your job is to stand here," he ushered her to stand at the point of a star formation, "and watch over the proceedings as they take place. I believe you are still sober enough to do so."

"You, Cora Willowstaff, are to be the holder. You job is to stand here," he pushed Cora to a spot to the left of Trelawney, "and, after Death has materialized in the circle, retain him by stabbing this cursed dagger through any part of his being into the ground. I will tell you when to do this, but you must listen and do exactly as I say." He gave her a stern look.

"Yeah, okay." Cora nodded. "I know this is serious stuff. I'm not gonna screw up."

"We shall see. I shall stand here on the other side of you as the will taker to control the life, which we shall take. You, Tigerlily Summersong, shall stand to my left and fill your role as the life taker. As the life to be taken sits in the centre of the magic circle, you shall cast the unforgivable killing curse."

"It's been a while." Summersong nodded gravely.

"You, Bridgit Firecatcher-"

"That's me!" Bridgit smiled brightly.

"Yes… you shall stand to the left of Professor Summersong and fill the role of speaker. I assume this is natural for you." He sighed.

"What do I do?" Bridgit was uncertain.

"You are the only one who can speak to Death, as it is your blood spilled on the ground. None of us has the right to speak to him but you."

"So…he can be my best friend?" Bridgit's eyes got big and sparkly.

"…Yes, actually. God yes. " Snape pleaded for her wish to come true. "But for the sake of the ritual-"

"I ask him what Peeves' real name is, right?" Bridgit wanted to make absolutely sure she had this right.

"Yes. It's not that hard. Even you can do it." Snape massaged the bridge of his nose. "Is everyone clear?"

Everyone nodded, except for Trelawney who just stood still, trying to maintain her balance.

"Now I shall require the moth." Snape muttered, more to himself as he grabbed the jar from the table.

"_Flammaae porro_!" Professor Summersong lit the candles.

Snape unscrewed the lid of the jar and the moth fluttered delicately in the air, unaware of its coming fate. The moth was too busy praying for the health of his moth wife, Bernadette, and his six moth children, Wool, Polyester, Velvet, Silk, Cotton and Flannel. Too bad he wouldn't live to see little Lanolin's emergence from her pupa.

"_Imperio_!" Snape cast his curse, Lord of the Dance style.

The moth, against its will, fluttered to the centre of the magic circle. Professor Summersong waited for the exactly right moment.

"_Avada kadavaraaaaagh_!"

A jet of green light flashed from the end of her wand, striking the moth as it floated in the air.

_I am a leaf in the wind…watch me soar._ the moth fluttered to the ground, dead.

The instant it touched the ground, a slight rippling appeared in the floor encompassed by the magic circle. The room went dark, save for a few candles and the marks on the floor, which glowed deep crimson. Then, rising from the centre like some grim, ghost ship, Death ascended into the room. Death looked like your standard-issue grim reaper, minus the reaping stick (aka scythe.) Death took a step towards Bridgit.

"Now!" Snape yelled, his favorite past time.

Cora leapt forth like a released squirtle ™, shouting her own name as a battle cry. She stabbed through the hem of Death's cloak with the pointy dagger, surprised to find the consistency of the floor to be like that of fairly compact earth. She didn't feel like she had stabbed through anything before plunging the dagger into the ground, but the apparition stood frozen in its place.

"Garfunkle's Good-Timey Fun Ceremony, hn?" Death mused.

"But…isn't it named after Koris Nighthelm?" Bridgit looked distressed. Funny names weren't part of the plan!

"Oh. So you didn't want me to do a dance. Cripes! All you people summoning me…it's a wonder I get anything done!" Death complained. "No matter. You've used up one of your questions."

"How many questions do we have?" Bridgit pondered aloud as Snape smacked himself in the forehead.

"Three. But now…one."

"Oh. Right. Okay…what was Peeves' real name that he had when he was alive?" Bridgit tried to be explicit in her wording.

"What? That's your question?" Death seemed stunned. "Then again, you _did_ only offer the life of a moth and I would have felt supremely underpaid had you asked anything bigger. Very well. Peeves' true name is Staniel GQ Slytherin. He also had a magazine named after him. That is all you need to know in answer to your question. Now, I shall take my leave. Consider yourself warned to never summon me again."

"Not even at parties?" Trelawney drunkenly asked of death.

"You have broken the rules." Death hissed. "By our contract, the barrier is now null."

The dagger piercing his cloak turned red hot and then crumbled to dust. Free from his earthly confines, Death swelled to a menacing height. An aura of darkness descended around him, so dark that it swallowed up the existing darkness as if it were broad daylight. And there, in the midst of it all, it raked its bony fingers at Cora with the intent to take her life.

"_Accio nightingale_!" Snape reacted with remarkable speed.

Cora, eyes wide in surprise and disbelief, launched her body with all the strength she possessed off to the side. No match for the speed of an immortal, Death's fingers raked through her, barely missing her heart. She stumbled backwards and fell to the ground rolling, an uncomfortable feeling in her chest. It felt heavy and cold, as a weakness crept through her limbs.

"Cora!" Bridgit shrieked as Death turned and lunged at her for a final time.

A nightingale penetrated the darkness and shattered the gloom like a stuntman through sugar glass. Cora slammed against the wall and the apparition of Death vanished as though it had just been a wisp of Trelawney's "incense". Cora stared off in the distance blankly, shivering violently.

"What just happened?" Bridgit turned angrily to face the three teacher-types, all of whom avoided her gaze.

"The contract was broken. You were the only one allowed to speak to Death." Snape explained coldly as Professor Summersong rushed to Cora's side. "In hindsight, even though she was the only choice, perhaps Sybill was not the best choice."

"How did we escape and what happened to Cora?" Bridgit was by her friend's side now, waving her hand in front of Cora's face.

"Don't do that, dear, she can't see you." Professor Summersong gently pushed Bridgit's hands aside, worry evident on her face.

"What happened?" Bridgit repeated herself.

"I'm not sure." Professor Summersong admitted.

"Nor am I. It seems Death's attempt to take her life was only partially successful." Gauging the composition of his audience, Snape opted not to include "pity", as many a beating would then follow.

"Severus, I heard there was a party and-" Professor Flitwick bustled into the room and stopped, staring about in horror.

He looked at the obvious pentagram, the burning candles and the prone, likely dead, student on the floor.

"Back awayyy…." He muttered urgently to himself and retreated quickly out the door, sprinting away as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

"What should we do, Severus?" Professor Summersong looked desperately at him.

"Oh no, I got us out of the last one by brilliantly summoning a nightingale, which can pass into other dimensions, thus breaking the barrier and saving us. You guys can figure this one out." He sat on a stool and crossed his arms, delightfully destroying his usefulness.

"I've got it! Maybe if we stimulate her mind, she'll come back. Music! We should use music!" Bridgit had an epiphany.

"I don't know if that will work…"

"Sure it will!" Bridgit started singing the hamster dance.

When that failed to rouse her friend, she tried "My Heart Will Go On" and "The Song that Doesn't End". On her fourth chorus when Snape was beginning to consider the killing curse as well, Cora suddenly came to and punched Bridgit in the face.

"SHUT UP! I'm trying to sleep, dammit!" She was still bleary and barely conscious.

"Yay! You're back!" Bridgit hugged her friend. "You're so cold." She backed away, looking at Cora in confusion. "Like a corpse."

"I saw Onion Cop." Cora ignored her friend. "He was so beautiful."

"Dear God, she's delirious now." Snape muttered.

"Dear, you almost died. In fact, it's quite likely that several years have been shaved off your lifespan." Professor Summersong looked sympathetically at her student.

"That's right." Cora suddenly saw everything fall into place. "It's YOUR fault!" She roared at Trelawney, who seemed painfully unaware of everything.

Cora leapt to her feet and immediately collapsed from the fatigue of almost dying. Staggering and knocking various things over, Cora manically clawed her way over to the divination professor.

"No, Cora, you need to stay still and conserve your strength." Professor Summersong restrained her student, finding the chill in her body most distressing.

"Well, this party really blows." Trelawney sighed. "I'm going back to my place."

She got up from her stool and walked out the window.

"Aren't we in the dungeon?" Bridgit asked aloud.

"That "window" leads to the boiler room." Snape commented in an off-handed kind of way.

"AGHHHHHHHHHHH!" They heard shrieks and sizzles coming from the window.

"We should probably assist Miss Willowstaff to the infirmary." Snape briskly stood up and walked towards the door as the screaming gave way to unnerving silence.

He almost walked right into Dumbledore, who was just entering the room.

"Ah, good evening Severus." He took stock of the pentagram, candles, and violently shivering student. "What's going on in here? And why does it smell like hot dogs?"

"Uhhh…nothing. Nothing is going on in here." Snape quickly threw chalk dust over the circle as Bridgit kicked a few candles over. Professor Summersong quickly pushed Cora under a desk. "Except for our annual toad wart barbecue."

"Oh, I see. Well, carry on then. I won't be joining you. Toad wart gives me the wind something fierce." Dumbledore chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was happening but just didn't care. He turned, walked into the wall, turned some more, and then walked out the door.

"That was close…only not." Bridgit sighed.

"Infirmary please!" Cora whined.


	21. The Exorcism Part2 Historical Peevsology

**The Exorcism Part II: Historical Peevesology**

"So let me get this straight…you cast two unforgivable curses and summoned Death just to learn Peeves' name so you could invoke him to learn why he's a ghost on the off chance you can do something to satisfy his sense of injustice, thereby allowing his spirit to pass on to the next world and to leave ours in peace?" Sammy summed everything up, massaging her own face. "Don't you think that that is a ridiculous amount of peril for something that is really only a mild inconvenience?"

"What's wrong with you two?" Reagan snapped, slamming his fists onto the table. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized, "it's just that you two have such little regard for your own lives. I worry about you!"

"That's not true! We love our lives. We just don't think about things before we do them." Cora objected.

"We're going to go find Peeves now. Do you wanna come?" Bridgit offered, being polite.

"No, we don't. We're guarding Harry like we're supposed to. Not creating situations that will put him in more danger." Sammy made her pointed comment. Ow.

"Yes. And you two should regard your own lives in the same way. You almost died once, why not take it as a sign to stop this madness?" Reagan implored them.

"Fine. We'll go guard Snape. And if he just happens to do something ridiculous and life-threatening, we can't be held responsible for it." Cora put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, whatever." Sammy muttered in irritation, clearly beyond caring.

Bridgit and Cora marched off to go find Snape, who would likely be in his own office. However, upon entering the frightening dungeon, they found that he wasn't there.

"Where could he be?" Cora asked half-heartedly.

"Wait! Wasn't there some kind of staff meeting going on?" Bridgit remembered.

"Wasn't that supposed to end half an hour ago?" Cora couldn't believe that teachers could have anything that important to discuss.

"Maybe it's running late. Let's go look in the staff room!" Bridgit skipped merrily off.

"Fine." Cora sulked after her friend.

* * *

A voice was drifting down the hallway as Bridgit and Cora approached the staffroom.

"You think that one's bad? This is appalling." Snape's voice drifted down the hallway. "'The Properties of My Cauldron by Padma Patil'" He read aloud in falsetto. "'My cauldron is pink and wonderful. I don't like writing essays, but you said we could choose our own topic as long as it related to potions and mine does ha ha. I bought my cauldron at Princess Sparklypoo Accessories. It is important because it holds my potions. If I had to do potions without it, I would burn my hands and look like a mutant. Everyone should have a pink cauldron because they are all fashion-less. Especially Hermione. Ugh. Her hair is icky and she thinks she's so great. But really, she is not. In closing, this is three inches.' I must admit, I will give her bonus marks for Grainger knocking…F+."

"Oh yeah? Well this one is Neville's about why he thinks you're a vampire." Professor Sumersong's challenging voice shot back.

"What? What kind of rubbish is that? 'My name is Neville,'" Professor Snape began doing impressions, "'I'm really whiny and I don't like learning. I wish my brain was more better, but then my grandma would father another baby and no one would love me.'"

"Yes, his grandmother is rather genderly ambiguous, isn't she?" Professor Summersong conceded.

"'Furthermore, I should be neutered.'"

"Oh yeah? Well, 'I'm Lavender. I have crush on every boy! Maybe even some girls. Whatever moves.'" Professor Summersong did a lovely rendition on her own student.

"Ugh. 'I'm Bridgit. My head doesn't work so good because my mom dropped me on it. She drank a healthy glass of aspirin a day.'" Snape also added random "duhhhh"s.

"Well, 'I'm Cora. I-'"

"Ahem!" Cora, not wanting to be the butt of anyone's joke, walked into the room.

The teachers quickly destroyed all the evidence by throwing it into the fire. Professor Sprout didn't like this very much.

"AGHHHHHH! I'M ON FIRE!" She screamed, running from the room.

"Ah…Miss Firecatcher. Miss Willowstaff. I see you've come for your detention. Let us away." Professsor Snape walked quickly from the room.

"They also have detention with me. I must also leave." Professor Summersong paused a moment, then awkwardly ran out the door.

The rest of the teachers looked sadly at the fire.

"Now what will we do for jollies?" Professor Flitwick's mournful voice cascaded over them in droves of sadness, as badly-written student papers were their main source of entertainment.

Madame Hooch raised her hand.

"I have some footage of first years trying to play Quidditch."

"Ooo!" Everyone leaned in.

"I wasn't dropped on my head…I think." Bridgit complained, trotting after Snape's brisk stride.

"Whatever." He muttered, barely paying attention.

"No, I agree. I think your mother _did_ drink a healthy glass of aspirin a day. Her and her lovely husband uncle father." Cora smiled darkly.

"Hey! Well, I bet your Mom was really mean and you got all her mean genes and now no one will ever love you, so you'll have to turn Moonmist into a human in order to pretend that _you're_ human. Oh, wait! You already did that!" Bridgit shot back.

"Touché." Snape dryly pretended this wasn't the most painfully unawesome thing of the day.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm gonna punch you in the face!" Cora snapped.

"Nu u- oh!" Bridgit got punched in the face. "Ha ha ha! Now I look like you!" She laughed from her bloody teeth.

"Children, that's quite enough." Professor Summsersong reprimanded them.

"Hey! Don't you preach to us, Professor "I'm gonna make fun of everyone"!" Cora objected to this treatment.

"Yeah! And maybe _you_ should be neutered! The way I see it, Neville's more helpful than you've ever been, Professor 'I'm angry and dress in black all the time!'" Bridgit, still delirious, crossed the line where Snape's sexuality was concerned.

Snape felt the inner rage boil. He couldn't expel her, he couldn't kill her, he could fail her…but that would be too obvious…what to do?

"I HATE YOU!" He kicked her in the back and pushed her down the stairs while lighting her on fire.

That was perfect. Nice and subtle.

Bridgit would have died had it not been for Mrs. Norris. Said feline-ish monstrosity had noticed some gum on the wall and had been shooting it with poison from her spinnerets. Bridgit landed on the hapless demon cat, breaking all of Mrs. Norris' bones and internal organs as well as some tendons.

"Stop, drop and roll!" Bridgit shrieked, doing just that.

As she put out the fire, Bridgit also smothered Mrs. Norris to death. Bridgit stood up, mostly okay. Then she noticed the casualty.

"Oh no!" She screamed in horror. "I scratched this painting!"

Bridgit quickly covered the mark on the painting with a fur hat she found on the floor. Satisfied that everyone would blame Hagrid, she dusted herself off and ascended the long staircase. When she got to the top, no one was there. She sighed, chuckled, and then limped off to go find them.

* * *

She found them ten minutes later in the library.

"Hey guys!" She waved to them.

"What took you so long?" Cora snapped.

"Oh, I almost died. Sorry." Bridgit pretended to be sincere while she secretly planted a stink bomb in Cora's back pocket.

_That'll learn her!_ Bridgit thought to herself. _Now everyone will think she farted._

"Peeves, stop this madness!" Madame Prince shrieked, shielding a book with her body. "Spiney never did anything to you! Please, leave him out of this! He's all I have left!"

Peeves only laughed mercilessly.

"What ho, Lord Byron! I have a sticky wicket with your name on it!"

Peeves had set up a massive battlefield in the library with all of the castle's suits of armor. He was using his poltergeist magic to animate his childhood dreams of battlefield carnage. Just like the '60s!

"No Byron, I'll fight him! You have to get back to fair Rosaline!" One of the suits of armor kicked Lord Byron's legs out so that Lord Byron could no longer endanger himself.

"Cromwell, noooo!" Lord Byron reached fleetingly out for his best friend's torso.

But Cromwell wouldn't listen. He picked up Picklefeather's helm and threw it at Madame Prince, temporarily stunning her as he picked up Spiney, the troll anthropology book.

"Let me away from this boulder…" Spiney whimpered.

"It's too late for that! This will cease your attempts to steal fair Bertha's flowers." Cromwell screamed, tearing pages from Spiney's spine and devouring them into his metal gullet.

"AGHHHHHHHH! IT BURNS!" Spiney writhed in agony.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Madame Prince shrieked. "He's the only one I love!"

"I do this for the good of my country: Cheeseland!" Cromwell continued his torment of Spiney as Madame Prince clawed at his legs.

"No, Cromwell! It will kill you too. Don't you know? Paper beats rock!" Lord Byron started dragging his torso to stop his friend's battle of madness.

"I will do it, by Jove! I will destroy Spinificus so that you may live to see fair Rosaline's 89th birthday!"

"She is my one true love." Lord Byron agreed. "But you were the best man at our wedding! We wanted you to be the one to bear our child!"

"I'm afraid that will have to be another cavalryman's duty, for mine is almost at an end." Cromwell continued eating Spiney alive.

"Faretheewell, dear, sweet, Cromwell. I will name my first born poodle after you." Lord Byron cried from the bottom of his heart.

As he swallowed/killed the rest of Spiney the Troll Anthology book, Cromwell screamed in agony and then fell to pieces in the cold bosom of death.

No one apart from Madame Prince or Peeves understood just what the hell had happened and stared in horror at his mad play.

"My dear Spiney." Madame Prince cupped the torn shreds of her only friend in her hands, tears spilling from her unprepossessing face onto Spiney's earthly remains.

Suddenly, she began devouring her lost love.

"Oh, Spiney!" She gasped in between mouthfuls, "Now we can always be together. Forever!" She wailed.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaa!" Peeves cackled.

"Oh, what the hell?" Professor Summersong sighed, not even wanting to touch this one.

"The sooner we get rid of him, the better." Snape considered at length tearing out his own eyes. "And maybe we should take the cocaine away from Madame Prince…"

"This play is so sad." Cora sniffed.

"Cromwell!" Bridgit clawed at Cromwell's earthly remains. "Why didn't you listen? Paper beats rock! You were doomed from the start by the book's poisonous, paper nature!"

"What the hell are you lot doing here?" Peeves smirked at them.

"Let's get this over with." Snape stepped forward and scowled a scowl fit for the world. "Staniel GQ Slytherin, I invoke you by your true name and call upon you to answer for your crimes!"

"Oh bloody hell." Peeves shuddered and suddenly stretched up to full attention facing Snape.

"In the name of your father and mother and their fathers and mothers, I demand of you to tell the truth!" He continued.

"Do you really need to be so dramatic?" Cora, angry at the shift of spotlight, sulked in a corner of the library.

"I'll do as I damn well please!" Snape turned back to Peeves. "Tell us what it is that keeps you in this world. Why do you haunt us spirit? We who do so hate you?"

"It never changes." Peeves stared coldly in an uncharacteristic way. "Everyone always hates the Peeves."

"Where did you get the name Peeves? Because if I had to pick my own name, I would probably pick something more cool." Bridgit wondered aloud.

"One thing at a time." Professor Summersong shushed her student. "Peeves, why are you here? What is your unfinished business?"

"It was a crime. A crime I could not forgive." Peeves turned to face them and turned opaque as he was forced for the first time in a long time to tell the truth…as he saw it.

**Sadness: The Tale of Peeves**

'I was a beautiful child. My mother died several years after giving birth to me…I think it was ten. Ever since then, my father started drinking. He would go through bottle after bottle of troll until the house was filled with an ungainly stench and the blight of puberty. He used to say terrible things to me, like,

"You were a mistake."

"I wish you'd never been born."

"With the money I spent giving you clothing I could have bought and fed a pony."

But I sill loved him.

"I love you, Daddy Slytherin." I would say to him every day.

"Go away. I am poking the milkman what I caught in this hole I dug." My father would reply, beating me with his brasses.

"Only the good die young." My senile uncle would comfort me.

Little did he know how prophetic his insane ramblings would be.

One day in September, my father was to depart on a conference to play muggle polo. He was so broken up since my mother, Maudeline Badgersworth, had died an untimely death by vulture attack. She was his one true love and the last purest of the pure bloods of the Badgersworth line, which explained her extra fingers. Muggle polo was his only escape and the only thing he could feel that wasn't pain and self-loathing, so he would go outside, ride a horse and hit muggles with a stick. He was the best Muggle poloer in all of Sussex and Liverpool combined. When he went off on his tournaments, he would leave me in the care of his colleagues: Godric Gryffindor, Roweena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. They were neglectful, morally debased and simple folk who would steal the good silver while my father wasn't looking. He would then blame it on the house elves and to punish them, he invented GOLF. GOLF was originally an acronym meaning Guillotined Off Little Folk. He would plant them in the ground and hit their heads off with a club. He would try to get the head to land in the hole with the milkman in it because muggles need to eat. He was a kind man at heart.

As I was saying, one September morning, he left the house for a Muggle Polo conference in Uruguay. Per usual, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw invaded our home in their monthly ritualistic babysitting. Little did I suspect it would be the last time I would ever be babysat again. I was nine years old and at the top of my game. Following in my father's footsteps, I had invented POOL so that he would notice and or love me. It didn't work…the house elf heads made the house smell and he called me Stella and yelled at me for the rest of the month. I was very upset when Helga sat on my POOL table and broke it (although everything she sat on usually broke). Ravenclaw kept on saying, "Oh, snap!" and wouldn't stop, even when I hit her repeatedly in the head. And worst of all, stupid Gryffindor was going to use a plastic container to heat me up some raisin stewp [stew soup] in the walk-in country burning coven. Father had locked his crazy aunts in a room and they would roast anything that came in, so we used them to cook our food.

"Gryffindor, you can't use that Stewp container! It is non-covenavable!" I protested, not wanting father's precious cookware to be country burned.

It all happened too fast and I was too young to react in time. Maybe if I'd known then what I know now, I could have stopped it. But alas, that is not how Lady Fate works.

"Fine! Then YOU hold it!" Gryffindor poured the Stewp into my surprised, cupped hands and pushed me into the walk-in country burning coven.

It was a slow and brutal end for Staniel GQ Slytherin. My aunts, blinded by age, set fire to my earthen vessel and also my stewp. It burned my hands and my body. But I did not die then, oh no. That would be too good for Staniel GQ Slytherin. No, I lay there for hours listening first to my father's colleagues wondering aloud where I had gone and then the drunken orgy that ensued after they found and freed the milkman. Finally, my father returned home, victorious after his latest Muggle polo escapade. I dared to hope that my salvation was at hand.

"Where's my son? Where's my Staniel GQ Slytherin?"

"We cooked him." Gryffindor, drunken on the loving of a tender milkman, easily confessed to his crime.

"Good. I'm hungry."

Then cannibalism ensued. Thus ended my tale of woe.'

"Ummm…Are you _sure_ that's how it happened?" Bridgit ventured, having keenly noticed that his story could very well be medically classified as mentally retarded.

"YES! THAT'S EXACTLY HOW IT HAPPENED!" Peeves screamed, all caps.

"Thank you, Peeves, you may go about your business of urinating on students." Snape dismissed the one being he would light on fire without first exchanging pleasantries.

"That's not the half of it! You'll have a nasty surprise waiting for you in your office indeed!" Peeves took off, howling with rage.

"There's no way that was the truth!" Bridgit finally let her skepticism burst out. "Ignoring the fact that it's rubbish, he said his mother died when he was ten and that he died when he was nine, so how could his father go play Muggle Polo to vent his grief over her death if she was still alive?"

"And I'm pretty sure golf was invented when Bilbo Baggins' relative hit the head of an orc into a hole." Cora added her fifty cents.

"Well, obviously it was rubbish." Snape sighed.

"He told the truth, that much is certain. However, it's possible that what Peeves believes to be the truth is simply a delusion of his insane, childish mind. He was invoked to tell the truth and we can be certain that, as far as he is concerned, that's what he did." Professor Summersong hinted at the many mental problems that arise from child abuse, none of which were accurately represented in Peeves' tale.

"Well, then how do we find out what really happened so we can get rid of Peeves?" Cora sighed in exasperation.

"A séance." They heard a whimpering, defeated voice. "I can hold a séance to speak with the soul of my beloved." Madame Prince clawed at Stiney's remains.

"That was almost a convenient answer." Bridgit raised her eyebrows.

"Well, then, I guess the next step is clear." Professor Summersong began to walk out the door. "We must hold a séance and speak with the spirit of Godric Gryffindor."

Speechless and confused, Bridgit and Cora followed her. Snape took a look around the carnage that was the library, decided he didn't want to be held responsible, and chased after the party of idiots.

"You do realize that you need five people for a proper séance." He poured sour grapes in everyone's eyes.

Professor Summersong stopped abruptly and Bridgit and Cora ran into her.

"Shoot." She muttered. "Who can we-"

"Sybill!" Professor Summersong exclaimed as Snape yelled,

"No!"

"There's no way I'm going to spend another extended period of time with that wench winching-" He stopped and noticed Bridgit and Cora and a few other students around him. "I mean, sure." Staff bashing in front of students was expressly forbidden.

"Great! Off we go." Professor Summersong continued, finding an alcoholic staff member rather convenient.


	22. The Exorcism Part 3 Seance

**Exorcism Part III: Séance**

Sybill Trelawney sat at her desk, sipping a daiquiri martini rum cocktail. Half of her body was severely burned and bandaged from her unintended trip to the boiler room. In order to take the edge off the pain, she had been taking a few medicinal sips of some of the spirits.

"So, you see, Sybill, we decided to let you direct a séance (because we know you like that kind of stuff) as a get well present." Professor Summersong sweetly lied as though she truly possessed no soul. Or at least no shame.

"Oh," Trelawney sniffed, "You guys are the best and only friends I've ever had."

Snape looked darkly at the length of curtain cord that lay close at hand. No…it wouldn't work. She could, after all, pester him eternally through her use of séance. The only way was for her to go first and, as oblivious as Dumbledore was, murder was a little too hard to talk your way out of.

"Right then, loves, away we go!" Trelawney swayed from side to side, gathering random items from around the room.

She set a red satin cloth and a crystal ball atop her finest square table.

"Now we must all join hands in a circle sitting around the table on the floor cushions." She held out her hands expectantly.

"Knock yourselves out, girls." Professor Summersong muttered and she and Snape shoved Bridgit and Cora towards Trelawney so they wouldn't have to touch her.

Instantly, Cora's eyes teared up and she started to sniff.

"Oh yes, dear, bringing back the dead is very emotional. I'll quickly fetch some tissue." Trelawney left to another room.

"You don't have compassion! What's wrong?" Bridgit asked her friend.

"Trelawney's hands burn and smell like rum and Professor Snape's hands are cold and clammy and slimy." She sobbed quietly.

"I have poor circulation and I'm quite sensitive about it!" Snaped growled defensively.

"Yes, and you don't see me complaining, now, do you?" Professor Summersong leveled her student with a fierce teacher glare.

"I get to hold Trelawney's bandaged hand and Professor Summersong's hands smell like vanilla." Bridgit smiled.

"Don't remind me." Snape sulked, wanting to be away from anything related to goodness and happiness.

"Here we are." Professor Trelawney breezed back into the room.

She placed the tissues behind Cora and then they all joined hands and began the séance.

"Spirits of the deep," Trelawney's misty voice boomed, "we of the mortal realm do now summon thee to commune with us in the circle of sharing. We summon you- who is it we're summoning?"

"Godric Gryffindor." Professor Summersong said from between clenched teeth.

"Ah, an educational field trip. Smashing! We summon you, Godric Gryffindor, to our mortal realm and command you to appear before us now!" She finished with a dramatic flourish.

Almost instantly, a green light emerged from the crystal ball and as mist spread about the room in a creeping effect, a voice from beyond began to speak to them.

"This call cannot be completed as dialed. ONE of the members of your circle of sharing has A SKELETON IN THEIR CLOSET. Please reshuffle your party and try again. Thank you for using Telekenisis."

"One of us has a skeleton in our closet?" Bridgit repeated as they all broke the circle.

"Hmmm…" Professor Summersong looked introspective.

_Oh fiddle-dee-dee. It must be my secret family._ She thought to herself.

"…" Said Snape.

_Curses! It must be that time from Harry Potter's third year at Hogwart's where I fed Lupin sugar water instead of anti-werewolf-transforming potion… But I'd do it again in a heartbeat!_ He then chuckled to himself.

"Gggh." Cora made a small choking noise, her face clearly displaying her discomfort.

_Oh no! How did it find out? Now everyone will know that, when I was little, I loved ballet and wanted to be a pretty princess._ She winced.

"Oh." Bridgit looked downcast.

_It must be that kid from the orphanarium what I almost killed when I got mad at him and accidentally lit him on fire._ She felt the shame of her shadowy past.

"Oh my, I wonder who it could be." Trelawney hummed and hawed to herself. "Oh well, nothing to be done about it now. I guess I'll just be going on my way now." She said while exiting her own classroom.

On the way out, she tripped over nothing and began to fall. In desperation, she reached out to grab anything to prevent her from said falling. Since Snape had jumped out of the way, she was forced to cling to an old tapestry. She ripped it from the wall in her descent, revealing a stone door. Triggered by the removal of the tapestry, the stone door began to open slowly. A cascade of beer bottles tumbled noisily from within its depths. Professor Summersong picked up one of the bottles.

"Disco Brew? That hasn't been around since the 80s." She inadvertently betrayed her age.

"Yes, how fascinating. Nothing to see here." Trelawney said, trying to quickly close the door.

A skeleton tumbled out, riding down the hill of beer bottles like a ghostly toboggan. It rattled to a stop on the cobblestone floor.

"Sybbil." Professor Summersong gasped. "You have an _actual_ skeleton in your closet!"

"It's not what it looks like!" She tried to hide the fact it was wearing a Hogwarts' school uniform.

"Are those the remains of a student?" Snape demanded in a firm, authoritarian voice.

"No! It's not what it looks like!" She protested again. "I didn't mean for him to die. I just locked him in there for a quick detention and then forgot about him. His cries for help were muffled by the empty beer bottles that served as his tomb. By the time I noticed the funky smell, it was too late and little Tompkins was no more!" She dry sobbed, leaning against the wall. "Why, Tompkins, why?"

"Well…that's more than I wanted to know." Bridgit admitted.

"Last one out has to take responsibility!" Professor Summersong screamed as she ran out the door.

"Dibs out!" Bridgit and Cora shrieked, hot on her heels.

"Sucks to this!" Snape bellowed and leapt from the room as if it were about to consume him.

"I'm the rotten egg." A forlorn Trelawney said at length, all alone.

She stood up, dusted herself off and prepared to hide the evidence. This time, someplace better…Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

* * *

"Well, that was a complete waste of time." Cora started up a conversation.

"What shall we do? We need another person to do a séance!" Bridgit sighed.

"And who exactly is going to lead said séance?" Snape sniped.

"Well, Bridgit and I took basic divination, which covers a fair bit of the curriculum that Hogwarts does. However, Sammy and Reagan took advanced divination. Reagan was much better at it than Sammy. Maybe we should ask him." Cora suggested.

"That would work." Professor Summersong agreed.

"Fine. Necessity demands and I suppose they are better than Sybbil." Snape conceded…eventually.

"Then away we go!" Bridgit started running down the hallway.

"No running in the halls! Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape yelled after her.

* * *

They found Sammy and Reagan sitting next to the lake, leaving black roses in memory of the giant squid they used to poke and had been eating as sushi for the past week. Damn you, cheap school lunch programs!

The four of them explained their predicament at length, because they had trouble agreeing on all the details and had a tendency to interrupt each other. When it was eventually made clear what they wanted, Reagan reacted instantaneously.

"WHAT? No! This whole thing is contrived and stupid! I disagree with it and refuse to take any part in it whatsoever." Reagan folded his arms in a huff.

"Fine, whatever." Cora dismissed her colleague. "Sammy, will you help?"

"Well…" Sammy looked uncertain.

"You're not actually considering buying a ticket to this lunatic cruise, are you?" Reagan demanded.

"But the founders of Hogwarts are involved in this. Whatever we find, it will be big. No one had any idea that Peeves was Slytherin's son. Any new information will be a historical breakthrough!" Sammy's eyes shone as she tried to put a good spin on her desire to satisfy a morbid curiosity.

"Fine! You're all morons!" Reagan stormed off.

"He's been unusually cantankerous today." Sammy looked after him in concern.

"Yeah, he's been a major grump ever since we told him we'd almost died in the banishing of a minor nuisance from the castle." Bridgit mentioned.

"It must be that time of the month." Sammy suggested.

"Uh, right." Cora patted her friend on the shoulder, remembering Sammy's lack of a biology education.

"I wonder if he needs some hygiene products?" Bridgit looked after him in concern, having a similar educational background to that of Sammy.

"Enough of your high school semantics! Back to the task at hand." Snape prodded the topic with sharp, pointy sticks.

"So I'll take it as a yes, Ms. Hellstorm." Professor Summersong took her by the arm and started dragging her back towards the school.

"To the defense against the dark arts room! It's the only room with a crystal ball other than Trelawney's!" Bridgit shouted.

"No way we're going back there." Snape agreed.

As a single untalking unit, the five of them made their way to the defense against the dark arts room. Once there, all were distracted by the pervasive whining of Snape.

"Your room has windows? That lead to light and salvation?" He reached out longingly to touch the transparent panes of glass.

"Yes, but your room has a wonderful assortment of pickled things in jars." Summersong smiled sweetly, offering small consolation.

"And your chair," He continued, "it swivels and it's padded. All I have is a wooden stool. So cold. I hate everyone."

"That's right, turn that frown upside down." Professor Summersong encouraged him, clearly not listening as she searched for a scrap of red cloth and her crystal ball.

"Don't be sad, Snape!" Bridgit implored her least favorite teacher.

"That's _professor_." He hissed.

"I need some red cloth. Does anyone have any ideas?" Summersong called out.

"My corset back in my room is red. Well, it has yellow on it too, but it's mostly red!" Bridgit's face lit up.

"How about your bandana? You know, the one you're wearing right now?" Sammy suggested.

"Oh yeah!" She took it off. "How's this?"

"That will work fine! Thanks, Miss Firecatcher."

"Don't sugar coat it Tigerlily. The sooner she realizes that she's useless the less crushing the realization will actually be." Snape cut in to truthfully surmise Bridgit's mental abilities.

"Well at least she's not hideous." Sammy glared coolly at her social superior.

"Fifty points from Ravenclaw. Why was it I agreed to have you here again?" Snape wondered aloud.

"Can someone help me move this body?" Trelawney's voice drifted down the hallway.

Snape's eyes widened. He quickly slammed the classroom door shut and locked it tight. No more Trelawney for him. Not ever.

"Okay, we're ready to begin." Professor Summersong handed the items to Sammy, who placed them on top of a student workbench. There were no fancy divination tables here.

"I think I pretty much remember what to do." Sammy muttered to herself.

"I am brimming with confidence. One idiot's guess is better than an alcoholic's knowing." Snape reluctantly handed out his acid-flavored compliment.

"Everyone join hands to form the sharing circle-"

"That's actually what it's called?" Snape interrupted Sammy.

"Hey, I didn't name it." Sammy said in her defense. "Anyway, join hands and- ugh! Who feels like slime?"

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw and another twenty if you don't hurry it up. I have papers to grade."

"How long could it possibly take to fail everyone?" Cora demanded.

"Longer than you'd think." Summersong answered.

"Hey! I was expecting a decent grade from your class. I actually try in that one…sort of." Cora objected.

"Sorry dear."

"So, hands! Check! Okay. We here summon thee, Godric Gryffindor to the sharing circle to talk amongst the living."

"Wow. Trelawney really managed to draw that one out." Cora muttered.

A green light extended from the top of the crystal ball. After a few moments of silence, they were rewarded with the figure of Godric Gryffindor rising from the glass instead of the shrill operator's voice.

"Who summons me from the land of bread and milk and honey and flowers?" He demanded in a powerful voice.

"Sammy does." Bridgit gestured towards Sammy with her head.

"Thanks Bridgit." Sammy died a little inside.

"What do you want?"

"We need to know the truth of what happened to little Staniel GQ Slytherin so that we can help his tortured soul pass on. It's very selfless, really." Cora explained.

"Ah, so I see Staniel has still been unable to find rest." There was a great sadness in the man's voice.

"Tell us the truth. The story he gave was so lacking in…sense." Summersong implored him.

"Very well. The tale I impart to you is a heavy one indeed." He prepared to tell his story.

**Peeves: A Tale of Actualness**

'Staniel was a typical lad of ten. Hyper, immature and a basket case. We all liked his little brother, Glennifer, better. Since he was close to coming of age, Staniel had been trying to gain his father's attention and approval, a natural stage for this point in his life. Unfortunately, Slytherin had been broken up by his wife's death by vulture attack and so had buried himself in his life's work, like so many before him and so many after shall do when confronted by pain. He was often gone on archaeological digs in other countries and the children were left in the care of myself, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff.

On the day in question, Glennifer was riding a toy broom around the house while Staniel was sitting quietly in a corner reading a book about ancient wizard civilizations in Rome. Suddenly, the quiet in the house was broken by the screams of little Glennifer. He had tumbled from his broom in the dining hall and broken his arm. The three of us rushed to his side to see what was the matter. All three of us tried to console and heal him, as Glennifer was very upset. Unbeknownst to us, Staniel, in frustration, had gone to find something to entertain himself with in a quieter wing of the estate. Unfortunately Helga had neglected to lock the door of Salazar's study after her ritualistic dusting of the place. The room contained dangerous and rare archaeological artifacts, which is why Salazar never failed to keep it locked. We assumed that the forbidden nature of the room is what drew Staniel to it.

Likely curious about the things he had seen in his book, Staniel was drawn to a clay vessel. He was just a small boy then and hadn't the necessary means to distinguish a Roman funeral pot from an Egyptian Soul-Stealing pot. They were shaped very similarly with only minute differences, so when he found it in his father's study, he picked it up and opened it.

A strange feeling ran through the air of the manor, although at the time we had no idea what it could have been. We fixed little Glennifer's arm and gave him a potion so that he could take a restful nap. Mere moments after we had set the lad to rest, we heard strange voices and screams from the west wing. It was not one of our better babysitting days.

Running into the study, we found Staniel wracked on the floor in agony, clutching his own head.

"What's happened, Staniel?" Hufflepuff cried.

"Stay back!" Ravenclaw prevented Hufflepuff from approaching the boy. "He has opened the Egyptian Soul-Stealing pot and has taken all of the doomed souls from within into his own being!"

"Dear God! They must be tearing his mind apart. No one can handle having hundreds of minds in their body, all fighting for dominance." I shouted.

"We must exorcise them right away!" Hufflepuff withdrew her wand in the blink of an eye.

"No!" Ravenclaw stopped her yet again. "Are you mad? You'll _kill_ the boy! That's the trap of this ancient device. It sets the souls inside into the body of the person who opens it. The souls then attach to the person's own soul so when they are exorcised, they take the person's soul out with them. To exorcise him is to sentence him to death!"

"What can we do?" Hufflepuff demanded, clearly distraught.

"Aghhhhhhh!" Staniel continued to scream in a most blood-curdling way as his mind was torn apart.

"We have to do something! We can't leave him like this. It's hell for him!" Ravenclaw shouted.

"Stay back!" Staniel's body screamed. "Don't touch me!"

"Well, what of the pot? Should we destroy it?" I suggested.

"I don't know what would happen if we did that." Ravenclaw admitted.

"It's a better option than what we know will kill him." Hufflepuff looked at the boy in sadness.

"We must do it!" I decided, since I was strictly a man of action. "There's no other way."

I headed for the pot, but Staniel suddenly leapt to his feet and lunged at me, his hands coursing with a strange, unearthly energy.

"ARGH!" I screamed as the energy seared my flesh.

I managed to wrench myself away from that inhuman grip and tumbled to the ground in shock.

"Godric!" Ravenclaw shouted.

"Stay away from my pot!" Staniel's vessel screamed.

By giving the many spirits a single enemy to unite against, order had somewhat come to Staniel's being. Unfortunately, that order came from all of them trying to kill us. Staniel attacked us with a ferocity that none of us had ever experienced before. For all our magic we were useless against the rage of the soul pot. Beaten and bloody, we saw little other option than to resort to the unthinkable.

"Staniel, please!" Hufflepuff begged of him in a last attempt to save his soul. "Take control of the swarm! Stop this madness and come back to us. Your father loves you and wants you to come back!"

Her attempts were valiant if not stupid and useless. Staniel lifted her from the ground and threw her against the wall. She bounced heavily and landed hard on top of the Soul pot, smashing it. A ghastly scream of a thousand voices filled the house. It was a good thing we'd put Glennifer to sleep. That kind of thing can traumatize a kid. Thousands of souls poured from Staniel's mouth and dissipated into the air as they were set free. We thought we'd done it, but alas, we were mistaken. For it was true that no human could bear having hundreds of souls in their body and Staniel was no exception. His mind had been ravaged and the shock was too much for his mortal coil to bear. He collapsed to the ground, dead.

It was virtually impossible to broach such a subject with Salazar. Thankfully, he started the conversation.

"What the hell happened to you guys? Are you alright?" He asked when he returned later that evening, seeing our bloody forms.

"My friend, a horrible thing has happened." I sadly imparted to him the tale of his son's demise. "You really should put better locks on those things." I added.

In hindsight, perhaps I should have been more sensitive.

"No! How could this happen?" Salazar demanded, eyes flaming. "How could you let this happen to my son? There are three of you! THREE! You had TWO children to take care of. What of Glennifer? Is he dead too?"

"He's okay. He broke his arm, but we fixed it." Hufflepuff nervously offered the truth.

"Staniel…" Salazar lifted his son's body into his arms.

After a brief moment of mourning, he put his son down and stood to face us, his eyes oddly hard.

"Get out of my house." He hissed.

"Salazar-"

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" He roared, shoving us out the door. "I will find a way – some way, somehow – to take my revenge on you."

Then he slammed the door and we never saw him again.

Until Monday. I tell you, working with him after that was kind of awkward.'

"That's so sad." Bridgit's eyes watered. "Poor Staniel. He only wanted to be loved."

"Too bad he was a moron." Cora muttered.

"That is quite different from what we heard." Professor Summersong admitted.

"I would imagine that his mind is no longer so complete." Gryffindor surmised.

"He told us that you burned him alive in a country burning coven and that the four of you ate him." Snape gave Peeves' own version of the story.

"What? That's disgusting! Stupid little nit." Gryffindor growled.

"Is that all we need to know?" Sammy asked.

Everyone else nodded.

"Very well. Then we dismiss you, Godric Gryffindor. Return to the abyss from whence you came."

"You know, it's not that bad!" Gryffindor objected as his visage was pulled back into the crystal ball.

Once it had faded, everyone released their hands as though they were playing hot potato.

"I never want to do that again." Sammy shuddered.

"But we have to!" Bridgit insisted.

"What?"

"I agree. What are you talking about?" Snape added.

"The ending! For the story." She offered. More blank looks. "We need to summon the soul of Salazar Slytherin. That's how the story has to end! The trouble was caused by a misunderstanding between father and son! If we can make Peeves meet with his father and allow them to talk and reconcile, the hole in Peeves' heart will be filled in and he can finally pass on to the other side." Bridgit explained.

"Well…I guess that could work. Although I'm not sure how having one's mind destroyed has anything to do with a father and son dispute." Professor Summersong thought to herself.

"It's not like we have a better plan." Cora pointed out the obvious. "Besides, Peeves is convinced that his crazy version of events actually happened and there's no way he'd believe us if we told him the truth, so this may be his only chance at finding peace or whatever."

"No better plan than Bridgit's…how sad is that?" Sammy shook her head.

"Very well then. We shall summon Slytherin and he and Peeves shall have a little tête-à-tête. Then we shall commence with the failing." Snape summed up their hasty plan.

They prepared themselves for the arduous task of capturing Peeves and getting him to go somewhere he didn't want to. It was not going to be an easy exorcism, that much was certain.


	23. A Night to Remember

**Chapter Twenty: A Night To Remember**

"Wow. I'm sure glad that's over. I guess Reagan and I underestimated how unpleasant it can be to look after Snape." Sammy let out a slow breath, pushing the portrait to the common room closed behind her.

"Remember: if Reagan asks, tell him that we all went out for ice cream." Rose deviously planned.

"I'm right here." Reagan, quite visible, raised his hand.

"Ypres!" Cora shrieked, very startled.

"What happened with the exorcism? Are all of you alright?"

"Well," Sammy began, not planning to lie despite Cora's desperate glances, "we finally managed to exorcise Peeves. It was quite trite, really. Bridgit and Cora managed to track him down and led him to Summersong's office with promises that they had duct taped Snape to a chair. Once there, they trapped him and summoned his father, they worked out their sordid pasts, blahdy blah blah blah and now, most importantly, he's gone!"

"It was so beautiful! Peeves found out that his father had always loved him and Slytherin apologized for being a crappy father and then they leapt into each other's spectral arms and, crying for joy, disappeared into a heavenly white light." Bridgit had tears in her eyes.

"Who cares? Peeves is gone!" Cora did a victory dance. "Finally, after many long chapters we are rid of him and have revenged ourselves in the name of Onion Cop!"

"You do realize that we just _helped_ Peeves and that it was pretty poor revenge." Sammy pointed out.

Cora stepped on Sammy's face, indicating her need to shut up.

"Well, I may not agree with the risks you took, but I am glad that you helped a lost soul to find inner peace." Reagan smiled. "I'm sorry for coming down so hard on you…I'm not sure what came over me."

"It's okay, Reagan. Pobody's Nerfect!" Bridgit burst out laughing at a joke that was so horrid, it was worse than this fanfiction.

She was rewarded with the music of Reagan's pity chuckle. The god of humor died. No one came to his funeral.

"Well, might as well turn in for the night." Sammy headed into the girl's dorm.

Tired after a day's work and discomfort, Bridgit and Cora parted from Reagan and headed to the girl's dorms as well in order to get some well-earned rest. They were going to need it, not only for the next day's return to classes, but also to sit through the agony of another student quidditch match. Bah Humbug, indeed.

* * *

It was the only day Hagrid could get Happy Helpers to come pick up the cradillos. So, much to everyone's dismay, they had to attend care of magical creatures even though all other classes had been canceled in honor of the day's quidditch match.

"Righ' then," Hagrid began, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. "Yer cradillos've come of age now and are ready to help many a diseased witch or wizard live a somewha' normal life. Yeh've done a righ' fine job 'a raisin' 'em, but now…." He sniffed, "it's time teh say goodbye."

It was clear that, even though the students would miss their cradillos, Hagrid would miss them most of all. As he continued blubbering, Hagrid indicated that everyone should take these next precious moments to say a heartfelt goodbye to their term projects. For Malfoy, this was very easy.

"Thank God I never have to look at you again." He glared at his project in contempt. "I hope you burn in hell when you die…which I hope is soon."

"Einstein, even though you were a disappointment -on so many levels- I'm happy you will go on to a career that helps people by your existing in their vicinity. I feel it is a good fit for you." Hermione patted hers on the head.

"Breeeee!" Einstein cooed.

"Oh, Scapegoat, you didn't save me from as much trouble as I'd hoped, but you weren't so bad. Ta for now, wot?" Ron casually dismissed his random animal.

"Right then, Lucinda. Be a good girl now, won't you? Even though you're expected to do something that will benefit everyone at your own expense, don't be sad. It's not that bad." Harry rubbed her head.

"Don't get so upset, Harry. They pretty much just stand around and get fed and taken care of. All they have to do in return is exist. It's kind of cushy, but I think Chester will enjoy it, won't you?" Neville gave Chester a small hug. "You're the best magical creature project ever! Better than stupid Trevor, he doesn't do anything. Oh, I'm going to miss you!"

"RAHHHHHH" Trevor the toad cried, feeling ever so slighted out of love and the painful awareness of being so last-season.

"I know you're going to miss me, Darling," Replacement Goyle began.

"RGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Darling growled.

Replacement Goyle burst into tears.

"I'll always love you! I don't know what I'm going to do without you. You were the light in my life, the wind beneath my wings! Please remember me. Your next owner might be prettier than me, but they will never love you like I have!" He sobbed.

Darling, who had wandered off during this emotional outpouring, stood contentedly in a patch of grass, eating and occasionally throwing up.

"Duhhhh…Stick friend." Replacement Crabbe managed to comprehend what was happening. "I miss you, friend."

"Breeeee!" Stick said sadly, tying Replacement Crabbe's shoes for him.

Stick had put on a brave face for Replacement Crabbe, but she wasn't sure how Replacement Crabbe could manage without her.

"You're mine, Aluicious! I won't give you away! Not to anyone!" Cora hugged her cradillos in a stranglehold.

_**It's time to let the stupid bird fly from the stupid nest.**_ Moonmist slapped Cora in the face with his wing.

"No! She's mine! Mine!" Cora hugged her closer.

"Breeeee!" Aluicious rubbed Cora's face and then licked Moonmist in an affectionate way.

_**I don't want you to leave eitherrrr!**_ Moonmist wailed, leaping onto Aluicious' back and burying his face in her fluffy fur.

"C'mon, Cora, we have to let them fulfill their destinies. 4 O'clock knows that there's something greater for him in the future and so does every other cradillos here. To deny them that is wrong. It's what they were put on this earth for." Bridgit sadly petted 4 O'clock's head, blissfully ignorant of the horrid genetic experiments and enslavement that had lead to her animal's 'destiny'. "And even though I'll really miss him, it's what's got to be."

"Bree." 4 O'clock nodded, pretending to be sentient.

"Oh, I love animals!" Hagrid wept. "I wouldn't hurt a single one!"

"How many moles died to make your inhumanly large coat?" Cora demanded, clinging to her pet.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Hagrid cried. "My poor babies! I'm sorry for being a freak!" He cradled his coat and began to dig a hole to give it a proper burial.

No more shopping at Redneck Pete's Animal By-Product Emporium. No sir, it was Edition Elle from this point on. Plus size of course.

"Students, please lead your cradillos into this creature receptacle." The reedy-voiced Happy Helpers representative gestured to a large burlap sack.

"Ummm…isn't that just a sack?" Bridgit asked.

"No, it's a sack of holding. It can hold 60 cradillos at a time, plus it's full of drugs so they'll sleep for the entire ride. I take it you must be from elsewhere. Here in Britain, we do things the magic way. This here is a _magic_ burlap sack, ergo it's better than muggle transport."

"Isn't that kind of dumb?" Cora didn't trust this man further than she could kill him to prevent him from taking her baby.

"No, it's _magic_. Like in Harry Potter!" He offered his spirit fingers.

"Don't touch me." Harry edged quickly away from the man, not sure his intentions were honorable.

"Well, into the sack you go, Bottom! Let's hope they stop by a dog food factory on the way." Malfoy booted his Bottom into the sack.

The rest sadly shoved their animals into the bag, where they fell asleep. Alucious, sensing her destiny calling, pulled away from Cora, who continued to cling desperately to her neck. Unfortunately, Aluicious was much stronger and dragged Cora along with her into the bag.

"Fine! Just go then. I don't need you!" Cora shouted as Aluicious fell asleep.

"Cora, that's probably the last thing she'll remember." Harry pointed out.

"Crap!" Cora ran into the bag. "I didn't mean it, girl! I love you!" She gave the sleeping beauty a hug. "Don't ever forget the good times."

"I say, get out of the cradillos receptacle. It's quite complex and dangerous machinery!" Reedy-voice shouted.

"I'm going." Cora threw a dirt clod at him in ill-humor.

"Well, then. Away I go." He hopped on his broomstick, hauling behind him the large cradillos sack tied to his vehicle. It was most magical indeed.

"Well, I know yeh'll need some time to get over this trauma, so I'm given' yeh the rest of class off."

"Hoorah!" Everyone cheered, running away.

And with a final "Amen", Hagrid laid his coat to rest.

* * *

Sammy, Reagan, Cora, and Bridgit sat down in the crappy, old, wooden bleachers to watch the stupid quidditch match. It was Hufflepuff against Gryffindor, a match for the ages to be remembered throughout all time. Fred and George were taking bets on how many points Gryffindor would beat Hufflepuff by. Since it was a special anniversary match, Dumbledore had irresponsibly splurged on semi-exotic animals for the occasion to act as spirit representatives. In the manner of all sports team animals, the two house's mascots were attacking each other. The announcer called a foul as Roary the Lion ate Stripes the Bagder. Hagrid wept large tears of drowning onto the quidditch field. He was asked by Snape, the only staff member present, to please leave you fat, ugly jerk.

Without further adieu, the match began. To fit in, Bridgit, Cora, Sammy and Reagan reluctantly waved little Gryffindor flags, which Professor McGonnagal had told them was mandatory. Sammy was watching Snape like a hawk and anytime the professor looked within fifty metres of where she was sitting, Sammy put away her flag and put on an "I love Ravenclaw" hat with a matching flag that said "That's so Ravenclaw". About five minutes into the game, they were starting to get a feel for the talent of the players.

"I hate to admit it, but I think that Harry is actually pretty good." Sammy muttered, feeling pain at the admission.

"Either that or those Hufflepuffs really suck." Cora offered a counter-argument.

Bridgit winced as two Hufflepuff players collided in mid-air with a resounding smack.

"Yes…let's go with that." Sammy sulked.

"Who's winning?" Reagan asked, staring at his feet.

He was unable to even look at the players, intimidated by the sheer height.

"This is stupid. Gryffindor is obviously going to win; even Blindie could have seen that. Let's just go." Sammy said brusquely, not enjoying Reagan's discomfort.

"Could we please stay and waste more of our lives?" Cora sarcastically asked of her.

"Why no, no we can't." Sammy picked her up by her braid and ushered her onwards through the bleachers.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as they were passing her.

"We have to go to the-"

Cora was spared coming up with an excuse as Gryffindor scored some quaffleage. The crowd leapt to their feet and began to parade Stripe's carcass up and down the field, running as fast as they could to keep ahead of Roary, who wanted his dinner back.

The Slytherin quidditch team used this opportunity to stand in the middle of the pitch and started launching a cannon at all of the players, especially Gryffindor's, who they were playing against next match. If all went well, everyone would die and they'd win by default. Snape turned a blind eye. While he was pretending not to notice his own house's flagrant disregard for human life in light of teen sports, he _did_ notice the four exchange students sneaking not so sneakily from the bleachers.

"We're leaving! We're leaving!" Bridgit sang.

"What? Not wasting your time on the frivolity of youth and high school sports? I'll give you what for!" Snape leapt to his skinny legs, almost snapping them in the process.

He left his lawn chair/referee post and the entire Quidditch pitch, running off the field.

"Stop singing, we've already gotten away, so it's not funny anymore." Cora grumbled to Bridgit.

"Oh no!" Reagan suddenly looked behind them.

"What's the matter?" Sammy was drowned out by a cacophony of angriness.

"There you are! When I get my hands on you..." Snape was coming at them madly from the other side of the bleachers, plowing through the students like a lawnmower. He knew that, like flowers, they would grow back in time.

"Run!" Cora yelled.

Needing no further encouragement, the four took off like a Firebolt of lightning. Too bad the authors couldn't think of an equally stupid way to incorporate "nimbus" into that sentence.

"I'll kill your aunties!" Snape roared, foaming at the mouth and simultaneously proving that Great Britain still had a B.S.C. problem.

"Not my ant farm!" Bridgit wailed.

"Worry about it later!" Sammy urged her on.

"_Immobulus_!"

The wands were out now. Snape evidently took Quidditch attendence _very_ seriously. Like conscription seriously.

"What the crap is wrong with him?" Sammy yelled over the fading din that was Quidditch background noise.

The spell harmlessly smashed into an eaglet, which Snape then trampled to death by mistake. When he was this angry, he developed tunnel vision.

"How are we gonna get out of this one?" Bridgit wondered aloud. "He saw us leave, he knows we're doing something wrong, he knows who we are and where we live and he won't stop until he's caught us and given us detention."

"Our only hope is that some random event will be miraculously triggered, thus rendering this aimless encounter insignificant in comparison!" Cora answered her friend's call.

Just then, something zoomed over all of their heads. In shock and confusion, they all looked up in time to identify Harry, quite far from the pitch, in pursuit of the golden snitch. The Hufflepuff seeker had been taken out by the cannon quite some time ago. Harry had no competition. Oblivious to his location, he focused only on the gold shiny.

"Does the snitch usually get this far away from the pitch?" Reagan asked Snape in the truce that ensued.

"No." Snape's face collapsed upon itself into a frown of reluctant not killing.

"Harry! You're going the wrong way!" Bridgit yelled as said seeker flew figure eights in the sky.

"I'll get it! Don't worry!" Harry half-listened. "And Gryffindor will win and all will be right with the world!"

"Inflated ego much?" Cora muttered under her breath.

Flying desperately to intercept the snitch, Harry gunned his broom and shot straight up.

"I will win!" He yelled.

He suddenly found his view to be a lot more burlap.

"What the-"

"It's the cradillos man! He's mad with power and back for more!" Cora shouted in horror, pointing at a flying duo holding a large, burlap sack.

"No, I don't think so," Snape squinted. "I'm pretty sure that's a non-magical sack and that…oh…I don't know…those are dementors!"

"Agh! Mum! Dad! That stupid high pitched laugh!" Harry yelled from within the sack.

Two dementors were flying through the air holding the burlap sack that they had used to sneakily trap Harry in between them. They could see the bag writhing as Harry struggled to escape his angst and also the bag.

"_Infernace_!" Sammy didn't mince words.

She couldn't screw up their mission. Not now. Not when they were right under his nose.

The dementors twisted their wraith-like bodies and easily dodged the magic missile, and kept on flying.

"How can we save him?" Reagan cried. "We know from Dumbledore that, because of his tragic past and fragile bird heart, he should be in some kind of emotional coma by now."

"You're right, Reagan, he is useless to us." Sammy agreed, physically shaking from preventing herself from adding 'as per usual'. "Bridgit, Cora! You get Harry out of the bag while Reagan and I distract the dementors!"

"I'll catch him." Snape offered with a highly suspicious expression on his face.

Sammy had an image of Harry falling to his death. No, that wouldn't do at all. Maybe Reagan could…No. Harry would like that.

"On third thought, I'll catch him. Reagan, you and Snape attack the dementors." Sammy permutated the right equation. Yay math.

Reagan and Snape started a volley of attacks against the wraith-like antagonists.

"This is our chance, Cora! Our chance to use our special attack we've been working on in secret!" Bridgit rolled up her sleeves.

"But it's too risky! If we miss, Harry might-"

"There's no time! Now!" Bridgit interrupted her friend.

"Beacon against darkness, silver chrome to shatter through evil!" Cora began, holding her arms aloft to one side.

"We call upon thee from thy nest in Athena's den of wisdom!" Bridgit continued, crossing her arms with Cora's.

"And together with thy smashing might, we will rend the fabric of evil in twain! We summon, thee: Athena's Sewing Scissors!"

And a brilliant beacon of light emitted from their fingertips and, where the two lights crossed, a pair of ethereal silver scissors, ringing with a light of purity, materialized in the sky. With a mighty SNIP of the arts and crafts power that flowed within, the scissors tore the burlap sack a new one. Harry tumbled out of the sky.

"_Wingardium leviosa_!" Sammy continued the spell's disgusting overuse and caught Harry before he could fall very far.

Then Snape and Reagan blew up the dementors.

Their perception of dementors as ghostly, wisp-like figures was shattered as chunks of ghastly, rubbery white flesh rained down on them.

"Hurrah! Job well done!" Bridgit cheered.

"What in the name of Merlin was that abomination?" Snape demanded, briskly striding up to Bridgit and Cora and wiping the dementor off his cloak.

"That was our ultra, super-secret duo combo attack! Like in Japanese cartoons!" Bridgit folded her arms across her chest impressively.

"I like Dragonball Z!" Cora shouted.

"I like Sailormoon!" Bridgit also shouted.

"Shut up!" Snape cuffed them both.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" A faint scream was heard.

"What was that?" Reagan asked as they all turned around.

"By Neptune's codpiece! It's a veritable inferno!" Snape revealed his word of the day. [Guess which one it was.]

The bleachers, now on fire, were devoid of human occupants. The students, deprived of their butt stop, were running around the field in terror. They were persued by a motley selection of Dementors and bogartian hallucinations.

"It's gonna eat me!" Perkins Dodgerson screamed.

"I am the real king!" Consonants wailed miserably.

"When did this happen?" Sammy gave a low whistle.

"It was probably meant to distract everyone while Harry was kidnapped." Reagan surmised.

"Ten bucks says the cannon started the fire." Cora muttered.

"What cannon?" Snape blankly refused to acknowledge it on pain of forfeiting his crown as King of Cheaters.

"What's happening?" Harry moaned and sat up from his grassy tomb where Sammy had left him. "And why am I covered in whale meat?"

"Trouble at the old Quidditch place. Dementor attack and whatnot." Cora offered. "Also you were almost kidnapped. By a crazy whaler. Yes." That tied up all the loose ends.

"Oh no! Ron and Hermione! They're lost without me!" Harry shouted in dismay. "We must save them! And probably everyone else too!"

"This would be a lot easier if there were more teachers present. Where is everyone anyway?" Bridgit grumbled.

**Aside: The Teacher's Retreat…of DEATH**

"I'm sure all of you are wondering why, with the exception of Professor Snape, you have been called into a staff meeting during the beloved quidditch match which should, by all accounts, be a joyful time of pretending that you aren't a teacher. But there is a dire situation that must be addressed." Professor Summersong gave all of her present colleagues a level stare. "The reason I have called you here is that someone among us…is…a… **murderer**."

"Gasp!"

"What proof do you have of that, my dear Tigerlily? Murder is a somewhat serious accusation." Dumbledore pointed out good-naturedly.

"And you _knew_ that, _didn't_ you, _Albus_!" Summersong jabbed an accusing finger into his old man sternum.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" He stammered.

"Of course you don't. Not when, in such a position of power, certain information can fall…in between the cracks? Out of the proverbial light, to say? Isn't that right, _headmaster_?" She continued.

"It's true! It's true!" Dumbledore suddenly broke down for no real reason. "Prior to Harry Potter and company I went through three groups of precocious young Gryffindors, eager to solve the many mysteries and dangers of the castle that I didn't want to deal with. I murdered them with my negligence!" He cried, his salty man tears causing the ladies to be all upons.

"Well, I hope that about wraps it up." Said a nonplussed Professor McGonagall.

"Not so fast, Minnerva."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She suddenly rested her face against her hand, looking uncomfortably inncocent.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Minnerva. Does the name Eagle Boy ring a bell? No? How about Horse Face? Cat Tongue? The short lived Fish Thing?"

"I specifically told them not to!" She burst out.

"What, pray?"

"I was lecturing about animagi. That stupid James Potter, God rest his Seoul, and a bunch of his stupid friends got it into their heads to become animagi to hang out with their werewolf friend. Not all of them were successful. "Scrawney" Jimmy Jorgenson, Pepper Snosberger, Felix Whaleenmeyer and Dixon O'Flaherty all became monstrosities. Well…Felix succeeded but was unwise in choosing to become a fish in a terrestrial environment. The rest begged me to kill them and I did as they wished. We told their parents they went on vacation to a farm with wide open spaces and lots of candy. It was the worst Christmas ever." She got a little teary.

"Well, that's the end of that chapter." Madame Hooch beamed, running for the door.

"I'm thinking of a sound." Summersong began as Hooch discovered the door was locked.

"Oh. And what is that?" Hooch asked faintly, still facing the door.

"Just a little something that goes like: 'HsssssssssssssskPOW! Splat!" Everyone in the front row opened umbrellas. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Ugh. Tie a rocket to a broom _one_ time and it comes back to bite you in the ass. Well, my tiny secret's nothing compared to the one hidden by…FILCH!" She pointed a finger at Mr. Smellypants.

"What?" Filch gargled.

"That's right!" Dumbledore perked up at the shift of blame. "He's responsible for like…seventeen deaths."

"Ain't my fault. Kids these days…so flammable. Don't build 'em like they used to."

"I spoke to you about that. The bacteria collecting on your skin from lack of hygiene has resulted in a permanent cloud of methane enveloping you and your surroundings. It's only a miracle you yourself haven't spontaneously combusted yet. And you _still_ haven't fixed it!" Dumbledore sounded mildly exasperated.

"I don't like to shower." Filch crossed his arms defiantly.

"You must shower every few days at the very least! My stars! Personal hygiene is integral to longevity and getting laid at least once in your lifetime. Why, right now your gamete chromosomes have probably shriveled from the smell. Your potential babies will be born with leprosy and or a 100% chance of abnormal W.O.W. factor." Madame Pomfrey shouted.

"You're one to lecture on not killing students, Pomfrey. Or should I say, Madame Pot'ead." Filch erupted into flames. "AHHHHHH! The pain! It's burns! It burnssssss! SOMEBODY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELP MEEEEEAAAAAAAAGHhhh….." And Filch left to join Mrs. Norris in kitty heaven.

"Oh, it was just once when I was young and foolish. I didn't mean to mix up the measles medicine with arsenic! What was arsenic even doing there? Oh…a whole ward died. But that's nothing compared to you, Twigethula!" She re-named the minor character with a _much_ better name.

"Silence!" Madame Sprout boomed. "You know not of what you speak! The Audrey needs to eat! What are the lives of a few students compared to the life of the rarest creature on earth! I only fed it the dumb ones. No one seemed to mind."

"Then why is Terrence Sterrence (Replacement Crabbe) still alive?" Flitwick piped up. "I can honestly say that I wouldn't miss him in my classes. He trounces the G.P.A. _Everyone_ is passing now!"

"I can't lure him down to the greenhouse. He's afraid of green…and houses." She sighed disparagingly.

"You're all despicable, horrible human and humanoid beings!" Trelawney raved. "How could you do this to the precious, precious students?"

"Oh? And why again, pray, were you digging in Hagrid's pumpkin patch this evening my dear Sybil?" McGonagall asked coldly.

"I…was searching for…truffles. Snort snort!" Trelawney quickly made up anything.

"And that was when she found the evidence. These," Summersong gestured to the pile of human bodies behind her, "were found."

"I was wondering when she'd explain why those were there." Flitwick mused to himself.

"Wait…why is that skeleton not covered in dirt like the other incriminating evidence?" Dumbledore pointed.

"Uhhh…that one's mine and…I cleaned it." Trelawney offered lamely.

"Yours?"

"It's of my great aunt. I keep it as a memento. She was a brilliant psychic. I keep it for kin divination." She was not very good at lying, was she?

"Well…that explains some of this. But that still leaves thirty bodies unaccounted for!" Summersong did some quick mental calculations.

"Oh, those are mine, dear!" Flitwick raised his tiny, tiny arm.

"Martin?" Everyone gasped.

"How did you end up with so many dead students? You have the least dangerous subject except for Professor Binns. And he doesn't count."

"Oh yes I do!" He popped up through the floor. "I'm tired of being left out! Three of those are mine. They committed suicide during my class. It was during my insidious lecture: the Goblin Rebellion."

There was a collective gasp. Few had heard the entire lecture and lived to tell the tale. It had been quickly stricken from the curriculum.

"That still leaves twenty-seven bodies." Summersong sighed. "Care to fill us in _Mister_ Flitwick?"

"Oh, right! That! Well, you see, a few years back there was this one student who made fun of my height. I was short-tempered in my youth, so I detained him. Once I had him all alone, I cut off his legs at the knee to see how _he_ liked it. For some reason, he bled to death. While I was preparing the body for a traditional Neopolitan embalming…even though he was Flemmish…I discovered the pleasing shape the stirrup bone in his ears had. So wonderful. I had to have it. And once I did, I had to have more. He was captain of the Hearing Club, so I figured stirrups with the most pleasing shape would result in excellent hearing."

"Oh!" Dumbledore had a moment of epiphany. "So _that's_ why the members of the hearing club all mysteriously disappeared within several months of each other. I thought the cool kids were feeding them to alligators."

"Yes. And now, look how lovely my charm bracelet is!" Flitwick held up his other arm.

The bone bracelet jingled musically in the most dulcet of tones. Oh, the irony.

There was a moment of silence as the teachers all stared at each other uncomfortably.

"Don't worry. It's finished now. I don't need anymore – I'm not greedy!" Flitwick reassured them.

There was a collective relax.

"So now we know that all of us are guilty of at least one count of murder each. What do we do with that?" McGonagall brought the question to light.

"I vote we never speak of this again." Madame Hooch informed everyone.

"Here here!" Dumbledore agreed.

"Is it morally viable to impede justice like this?" Professor Summersong ventured.

"Oh, come on, Tigerlily! Like you've never killed anyone before!" Dumbledore chided her.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Everyone started laughing.

"Tee hee hee! I guess that's true enough!" She tittered.

"To silence!" Flitwick raised his glass for a toast.

"Here here!"

Clink!

* * *

"And to think I'm the only one who hasn't killed a student. How shameful." Snape muttered to himself. "Well, maybe it's time to start." He glared at Bridgit and Cora.

"What was that?" Bridgit asked.

"Quickly. We must go help the precious, precious students." He shambled off to avoid any further pesky questions.

~Please let them be reincarnated as small insects. I would sell my soul. Small insects that I can step on…~

As they neared the pitch and the horde of dementors, they felt whatever vestiges of happiness they had vanish. Snape noticed no difference.

"I hate this." Cora muttered to herself.

"Definitely one of my least favourite encounters." Bridgit shuddered.

"What ho, evil!" Harry shouted, visibly sweating but struggling to appear manly before Reagan. ""_Expecto patronus_!"

A brilliant silver stag of a blinding light expelled from the tip of his wand and charged about the field, battering many dementors and driving them away.

"Oh my. That's very high level magic." Reagan breathed, clearly impressed.

_Yessss!_

Spurred on by his current infatuation's attention, the patronus doubled in brightness. The stag puffed out its barrel chest in order to further impress everyone.

"Now attack!" Harry shouted as the stag went and turned for a second round.

One of the dementors reached into its cloak and retrieved something that looked suspiciously like a muggle .32 calibre rifle. Except it was _magic_. It cocked the rifle, took aim and…BANG! The stag stumbled a bit, seeming to trip on its own legs as silver began to leak from its side. It collapsed into a puddle of shimmering goo and slid wretchedly back into Harry's wand. Now defenseless against the dementors, Harry felt the full brunt of his horrid past sliding over his consciousness like icy cold daggers of water. His vision went blurry and he collapsed. A crowd of dementors immediately converged onto him. One began to remove its hood.

"It's going to kiss Harry!" Reagan exclaimed.

"Why?" Bridgit shrieked, her face a mask of disgust.

"That's how it attacks!" Reagan yelled at Bridgit.

"Oh."

"Bridgit! Cora! Spread out and help the others! We'll take care of these dementors!" Sammy barked as she fired off some spells.

"_Expecto patronus_!" Snape gurgled in fury, launching forth his patronus.

A mangy looking mongoose escaped from the end of his wand, looking about in a roving and rabid manner. It half snarled and laughed insanely as it barreled towards the dementors. Charging in an erratic series of motions, it was upon the first few dementors like stink on a sandwich.

"All right, students, everyone run this way!" Cora shouted.

Bridgit and Cora had jogged towards the edge of the field and were keeping a corridor dementor-free for people to escape through to the castle. It wasn't easy, as the dementors seemed voracious for anything mortal.

"Ugh…I feel really sick." Bridgit sounded strained and forced herself to concentrate on keeping the hooded wraiths at bay.

Voices and screams kept streaming through her consciousness, making it terribly hard to concentrate on what she was doing. Her stomach was churning and her vision started to spin.

"Yay! I'm blowing stuff up!" Cora, only mildly uncomfortable, continued her dementor carnage.

The students were still trickling through, but then came something they were not prepared for. A wave of bogarts streamed forward as the dementor's ranks began to thin.

"What the hell are those?" Cora squinted.

Before she could get a clear look at what was coming, they seemed to shift. Suddenly, she was no longer on a Quidditch battlefield. Her entire world was surrounded in darkness, the only feeble light being a pitiful circle around her.

"What is this rubbish?" She growled.

Further away, a weak spotlight illuminated the figures of Bridgit, Sammy and Reagan. They were walking away from her, growing fainter as the distance increased.

"Hey guys! What's going on?" She jogged to catch up to them.

They neither turned around nor got any closer to her.

"Guys?" She ran faster, but the distance continued to grow.

"This isn't funny! Wait up!" She broke out into a dead run. "Come back!"

They had vanished. She tripped in despair and lay sprawled out on the ground.

* * *

"Mister Potter, wake up." Snape poked Harry's prone form.

"What happened?" Sammy asked, checking the young hero's vitals.

"I'm not sure. I think he might be in shock. A patronus has never been defeated in such a manner. Since it's an extension of oneself, it's likely to assume that it took a heavy toll on his energy and needs to be rejuvenated." He gave his surly hypothesis.

"Hmmm…that sounds reasonable. Can you think of anything you can do to help, Reagan?" There was no reply. "Reagan?"

"Yaaaaaaaah!" Came a faint scream.

Sammy and Snape looked up. Wayyyyyy up. Reagan clung desperately to a renegade broomstick which seemed to have a will of its own.

"Well…this is vaguely familiar." Snape muttered, thinking of when Professor Quirrell tried to kill Harry with glee.

"What is it then?" Sammy demanded.

"Wait, no. That one was enchanted. This one seems to be a bogart." He surmised.

"A wha- oh. Those things. Yeah, we studied them…Reagan should probably be able to take care of it." She looked up expectantly.

"Ahhhhhh! Help me! It's too high!" He shrieked, clinging on to the broom for dear life and squeezing his eyes shut.

"He appears to be petrified with fear."

"Well, then what do we do?" Sammy shouted.

"There's nothing we can do to help. He must defeat it on his own. Our best course of action now is to help with eradicating the rest of the attacking dementors." Snape started jogging toward the pitch.

Sammy remained behind, unable to leave Reagan by himself in this state. Snape scowled in disgust. Some fears didn't need bogarts to be petrifying. He continued on, resolute not to waste anymore time.

"It's okay Reagan! It's a bogart! Remember? You can handle that!" Sammy shouted up encouragement. "You've done this!"

"That was before **the accident**!" Reagan shouted back, sounding like he was fighting becoming ill.

* * *

"Cora! Cora!" Bridgit shouted.

Her friend had become enveloped in a bubble of darkness. She decided that it was unlikely that Cora could hear her.

"What the hell is this thing, anyway?" Bridgit wondered aloud, trying to kick the bubble.

Her foot connected with something solid, but the bubble didn't move. Making an uncomfortable strategic decision, she opted to return to fighting the dementors. Sensing a presence behind her, she whirled around ready pound the living daylights out of…

"What the hell…" Her eyes widened.

There are no words to describe what was behind her. At least, none that exist. However, it is correct to say that it was the most hideously frightening monster Bridgit had ever seen. She screamed.

"Oh my God! It's a bogart…it's hideous!"

The bogart was somewhat taken aback. Usually people had real fears. It wasn't used to being seen for what it was. Still, it uncomfortably made some threatening gestures in her direction.

"Get away!" Bridgit tried to kick it, but missed.

Snape finally made it to the corridor, which was closing from lack of Bridgit and Cora. The dementors began to overtake some of the students now that they were no longer threatened.

"Imagine it doing something funny and then cast the spell '_ridikulous_'." Snape shouted imperiously at her as he ran by. "It's not that hard! _Expecto patronus!_"

As he forced the corridor open again, Bridgit searched the depths of her mind. Her face split into a grin.

"H ah ah aha ha ha! _Ridikulous_!" She laughed, and then the bogart disappeared.

Seeing that Cora was still unreachable, she went to go help Snape.

* * *

Cora sat in the middle of the darkness clutching her knees and shivering slightly. This was not fun.

"Come back guys. I'll be nice…well, nicer. I promise not to usurp or mutiny anymore. I'll stop borrowing your clothes without asking, Sammy."

Nothing happened.

"Ahhh…no….I'm not afraid." She said uncertainly. "I'll just think of something funny…that will make me feel better…" She weakly reasoned. "Clowns are funny."

She was surprised as her imagination manifested itself into reality. She was now dressed as a clown.

"Hey! I'm a clown. Ha ha haa!"

The darkness shuddered, as though uncertain. Then…

The bubble of darkness shrank considerably, freeing Cora, and then the bogart zoomed off in fear. Apparently clowns are a universally hideous phenomena, and even terrified bogarts. Cora, preparing to revel in this power and intending to use her new guise as battle armor, looked down.

"What gives? I'm not a clown anymore." Cora stared at her non-gloved hands and tiny, tiny shoes.

"Good job Cora! You figured out how to beat the bogart on your own!" Bridgit congratulated her, finishing off the last dementor and feeling much better for it.

"The bog- uh- yes! Yes I did! I'm so awesome!" She gwaffawed and ran to join her friend.

"Well, the bad guys are all taken care of over here. Now let's see if we can't help Reagan." Bridgit suggested.

"Don't bother." Came an exhausted voice.

They all turned around to see a haggard Reagan being led by Sammy, who was carrying Harry, towards them.

"Wow. How in the world did you make a broom funny?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"Oh, it finally came to me." Reagan said darkly, gesturing behind himself.

Cora nodded in approval at the broom, which was now tied to a conveyor belt heading towards a mill saw.

"Good idea! So now you can cast the spell and-" Bridgit saw Reagan's barely sane expression and realized that it was curtains for the bogart. "That poor broom." She muttered softly.

As the group headed towards the castle, there was an earsplitting scream and then no more.

"Well, looks like more points for the Canuks!" Cora cheered. "Ain't nothing gets by this gel!" She showed off her new British slang word.

She was suddenly grabbed from behind and felt an icy cold despair wash over her. Taken aback, she found herself unable to fight against the vice-like grip of the sneaky dementor. The pit of her stomach opened and she could only stare up into the icky tentacle face that was lowering towards hers. She could feel a strange tugging in her lungs as her breath seemed to be pulled from her as though someone was lowering a vacuum into her face.

"_Expecto patronus_!" Snape's mangy mongoose of justice once again escaped from its confines and loosed its manic cobra-seeking rage against the dementor.

The stunned creature dropped Cora on her ass and fled, mongoose nipping at its heels. Cora stood up shakily, breathing hard, and dusted herself off.

"I guess we missed one." She struggled to sound nonplussed. "Thanks Grinchy, you saved my life."

"Don't remind me." Snape said through gritted teeth.

He suddenly grabbed his arm and fell to his knees.

"Hey...ummmm, are you okay?" Cora asked.

"What do you think?" Snape growled.

"...no?"

Instead of growling in reply, his face went even paler than it usually was and he collapsed.

"What's happening?" Cora asked.

"It's his tattoo!" Bridgit exclaimed.

"Since when did he have a tatto? And how did you know about it?"

"Never mind. There are poisons locked inside the tattoo, and if ever he's nice, they come out and he dies." Bridgit explained.

"What kind of crappy tattoo is that?" Cora muttered.

"He has the death mark?" Sammy asked incredulously.

"We'll worry about that later. We need to get him to the infirmary right now." Reagan took charge of the situation

"Will he even live that long?" Sammy wondered, noticing the professor's rapidly deteriorating condition.

"When I get through this, I'll kill you all." Snape rasped weakly.

"Well! Let's get him in suspended animation." Reagan rubbed his hands together.

"What?" Snape asked in alarm.

"_Animatus_!" Reagan ignored him.

Snape froze, his face an ugly mask of alarm.

Sammy and Reagan walked in the lead, ushering the unconscious Harry and suspended Snape between them. Cora and Bridgit trailed along behind them.

"I don't understand…he's helped us before. He was even helping protect the students. Why would the toxins suddenly come out now?" Cora asked, somewhat shakily.

She had grown accustomed to the unpleasant toxic words that spewed from Snape's twisted, sallow mouth. Hell, she could even set her watch to them. This sudden incapacitation was jarring and left her with an uncomfortable feeling…like that it was all her fault.

"I think…it's because he didn't _have_ to help you. Before when he saved us, it was also to save himself. As for fighting the dementors…that is part of his job description. If he had done nothing, there would have been hell to pay. This was a sneak attack that he could very easily have missed or feigned not noticing. Remember: he was ignoring the cannon. It's because, for whatever reason, be it reflexes or intention, he chose saved your life." Bridgit explained.

"So…what was your bogart?" Cora began conversationally, trying to change the subject to something less horrifying.

"Oh. It was a bogart." Bridgit answered.

"Yes. I know that. Mine manifested itself as all-consuming darkness and separation from everyone I know. What was yours?" Cora clarified.

"A bogart. They're really scary!" Bridgit whimpered a bit.

"You mean you're not afraid of anything _real_?" Cora asked incredulously.

"It was real enough to me." Bridgit shuddered. "I had to pull out all the stops to make it funny."

"Ho? And how did you do that?" Cora arched a finely-pruned eyebrow.

"I just added some Groucho glasses." Bridgit finished, and then continued walking.

"That's hilarious!" Cora and Bridgit burst out laughing together.

"Idiots." Sammy muttered for herself and, unbeknownst to her, for Professor Snape.

[Author's note: Snape's word of the day was, "it's."]


	24. In Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom

**Chapter Twenty-one: In Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom**

The door to the infirmary burst open with the boom of Thor's mighty thunder stick. Dumbledore, his face more shadowy than an inky storm cloud, ruptured the boundary between the hallway and infirmary. So dark and menacing was his extreme look that all who beheld him recoiled into silence and were given the true understanding of why he was the most feared wizard in the world.

"You two…" he seethed.

Bridgit and Cora shrank back in fear from his accusatory finger pointing.

"What _exactly_ were you two doing?" He demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Uhhh, sir. It's not their fault. In fact," Harry began, piping up from his bed.

"Mystery! Cover Mr. Potter's ears!" Dumbledore commanded Madame Pomfrey.

"Mystery?" Harry wondered aloud.

"My parents weren't sure whether I was a girl or a boy." Madame Pomfrey explained before covering his ears.

"You were placed in charge of protecting one Harold Potter and one Severus Snape. And here I come to find them in a state not of which I left them in! This one," he gestured to Harry, "has scratches! And this one," he pointed to Snape, "looks deader than usual!"

"Sir, if I may-" Sammy began, trying to defend her comrades from Hurricane Dumbledore.

"You may not!" He silenced Sammy with a glare. "There is too much at stake here for failure and I must say that I have not been impressed with your performance thus far! Your Prime Minister insisted that you would be indispensable for the times ahead, but I feel this has not been demonstrated. As it stands, we would be just as well off without you here. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send you all back home right now. You can barely look after yourselves. You're just four more students and more liabilities than any help!" He boomed.

Bridgit could tell, in the corner of her mind that was still functioning and not frozen in terror and guilt, that Dumbledore was the kind of person who didn't get mad often, but when he did it was not something you wanted to be around, much less be the target of said anger.

"And what help have _you_ been exactly, sir?" Sammy glared at the headmaster. "Because as I see it, we didn't just have two people to look after, but the entire student body, which hasn't enough knowledge of defensive magic to handle a situation like that. And it wasn't Bridgit and Cora's fault! How could they overcome the handicap of your crappy curriculum? Moreover, Professor Snape's current condition is the result of poor decisions that he made in the past." Sammy retorted, seething.

"In the…? Dammit, Severus!" Dumbledore's anger increased a threefold.

* * *

Lord Voldemort, in Castle Mount Snake Pit, suddenly peed his pants.

"Curses!" He hissed. "Peter!" He roared. "Peter! Get over here, you worm!"

"Yes my lord." Peter hustled into the room and shook with fright.

"I appear to be incontinent. Fetch me the Depends." He commanded.

"Yes my lord!" He scurried from the room.

"Uhhh…sir? I'm having a little trouble finding them." A muffled voice called from the hallway.

"They're not in the closet! They're in the bathroom pantry!" Voldemort howled.

"Right! Sorry m'Lord!" Peter scampered back into the room and presented the desireable.

"Finally!" He snatched them from his servant's one hand, because the nicer hand had been melted down and pawned off in order to buy some sweet new rides for his soldiers of death. "Finally." He repeated. "The one thing I can actually count on. Now, Wormtail, fetch Nagini and help me into my diaper!"

* * *

"Severus!" Dumbledore shouted at Snape's prone form. "I know you're for all intents and purposes in a coma…a _magical_ coma…but you can still hear me! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get new teachers into this death trap of a school? I just got Summersong, how the hell am I gonna get a replacement for you while you're incapacitated? And what were you doing, saving a student like that? I told you: they're all expendable!" He stopped and looked sheepishly at his small chamber audience. "Except for you." He squeaked.

"Calm down!" Mystery shouted. "This is no one's fault! It's He-who-must-no-be-named's fault. He's the one who planned this and sent the bad things!"

Dumbledore calmed down and visibly deflated.

"You're right, Mystery. I should not be taking my anger out on our exchange students. Bridgit. Cora. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Sure….just don't kill me." Cora was still a little ashen-faced.

"Is he going to be okay?" Bridgit turned to Madame Pomfrey.

"In short, no. In addition to what Reagan did, we managed to slow the poison an additional 200%. But that will only buy us so much time. From dying in one minute, his life has been lengthened to a week. Then, he will invariably go to the big Quidditch match in the sky. It's a shame, really," she sighed, "he doesn't like quidditch." (She failed logic.)

"Not like Quiddtich?" Harry, his hand earmuffs being removed, heard this last remark. His world felt like it was falling apart around him.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Cora asked as everyone ignored him.

"I'm afraid that no one here knows of any cure for this poison." Madame Pomfrey said.

"What about Reagan? Did you ask him?" Bridgit asked hopefully.

Madame Pomfrey just shook her head sadly. Seeing there was no one useful present to get information from, the two headed towards the door.

"Just a moment, ladies. I have something for you." Madame Pomfrey bustled up to them, as though she had suddenly gained something meaningful to say.

She handed them two booklets.

"These will probably come in handy." She winked at them and went back to force-feeding Harry strained apricots.

Bridgit and Cora looked alarmed and quickly backed out of the room, lest they meet a fate worse than prune juice.

"What did you get?" Cora asked.

"'Coping with your loss'. What about you?"

"'How to counter depression'."

There was a moment of silence.

"Good to see that she's really rooting for Snape." Bridgit muttered.

"Sucks to that! I have decided that we're going above and beyond the mission! We're going to save him!" Cora shouted resolutely at the empty castle walls.

"Uhhh…why?" Bridgit asked. "Really…why? We don't have to."

"He didn't have to save me, but he did!" Cora countered, looking shocked. "The least we can do is return the favor!"

"I dunno…I think maybe all that useless slug puss might have gotten to my brain, but a certain little voice is saying 'no'." Bridgit folded her arms across her chest.

"And my fist says 'yes'!" Cora stomped on Bridgit's foot.

"That's not your fist!" She whined.

"Good. It's settled." Cora dragged her friend down the hallway.

The two dropped their booklets in a silent pledge and continued on.

"What do we do now?" Bridgit asked.

"We need information and no questions asked." Cora summed it up. "I say we find Summersong."

"Agreed." Bridgit nodded.

At first, Bridgit had felt that they should not, in fact, go find a cure for Snape. Despite the fact that they both owed him, it was ludicrous. They had no idea where it was and only a fleeting hope they could recover it before a week was up. It made more sense to stay behind at the castle because Voldemort's attacks had been escalating in time and magnitude. If this pattern continued, both the castle and Harry would be in grave danger within a very short period of time. She kept her mouth shut for now, but if the antidote was too obscure, she was going to put her foot down.

Cora had somewhat less dark thoughts on her mind. She had already decided she was going to successfully save Snape and then lord it over him to earn her a lifetime of favors. She let this thought ring loudly through her mind to drown out the large feeling of guilt coursing through her thought valves.

"What do we do now?" Bridgit asked to break the oppressive silence.

"Are you deaf? We're going to find Summersong!" Cora stabbed Bridgit with her hurtful words.

"I will get there first!" Bridgit hurrahed, taking off at a sprint.

"No! I want to win~!" Cora screamed, fanagling after her friend.

Professor Summersong's door was uncharacteristically shut. Too bad for them.

Ba-CRASH! Ka-THUMP!

Both separately and of their own free will ran into Professor Summersong's office door.

"Who is it?" Her singsong voice called out.

"It is us." Bridgit moaned, picking her broken body up from the floor.

"Just let me put these essays away. After the last time a student saw me marking them, I got in trouble. Oh, Miss Grainger, ever the nosey one." She chuckled from behind the door.

There was the scraping of a key in the lock and the door swung open. A strange, heavy smell hung in the air. Summersong wafted the clouds of smoke out from the doorway and gestured for the two to come in. She then shut the door and locked it behind her again. Bridgit and Cora caught sight of a large, bubbling cauldron in the middle of the room.

"This doesn't look like essays…" Bridgit stared around the now messy room, strewn with various substances and strange-looking items.

"Uh…yes it is. What do you think I do with the bad ones?" She picked up an essay. "Here Mr. Cauldron…yummy yummy, eat up." She offered lamely.

"Uhhh…we can come back later." Cora stared dubiously at the clearly lying professor.

"All right, girls. I'll level with you. I'm making a potion." She sighed, chucking the essay into the fire.

"I knew it!" Bridgit exclaimed, satisfied with the explanation at once.

"Oh my gosh…are you gunning for Snape's job?" Cora asked incredulously.

"What?"

"You know that he wanted your job, right? You guys could've just traded!" Bridgit added.

"Oh, God no. Who would want the job of teaching idiots to brew volatile potions? No thank you." She shuddered. "No, Severus and I have known each other from an earlier, darker time. We're not always on the best of terms, but I suppose we're the closest thing either of us has to a friend. Plus he's my drinking buddy and I do NOT want to be stuck with Trelawney."

"That's kind of sad." Cora noted.

"…But what's the potion for?" Bridgit asked again, pointing to the bubbling cauldron in the middle of the room, in case the others had forgotten it was there.

"Idiot." Cora sighed.

"I was attempting to brew a potion to hopefully extend the limited time Severus has. I'm afraid, alas, that I was never very good at potions, so it probably won't work. Oh well. At least I tried." She shrugged.

"Don't give up! There must be someone who has an antidote!" Cora cried.

"Actually, that's kind of why we're here." Bridgit began, "We know you won't stop us when we say that we're planning to probably go and find the antidote. We just don't know where it is or how to get it."

Summersong looked pensive for a moment.

"I'm not sure how helpful this will be, but I know where you could potentially find the information you're looking for. It is quite reasonable to assume, don't you think, that the antidote will be in the hands of those who poisoned him?" She suggested to them.

"You mean the Deatheaters?" Bridgit's insides went a little cold.

She nodded.

"Does anyone know where they are?" Cora asked hopefully.

"If we knew that, do you think we would just leave them there?" Professor Summersong sighed.

Like her younger self, Cora seemed to get steeped in her own emotions to the point where she forgot to look where she was going.

"Well, Fine! We'll just go find them, then." Cora announced, heading out the door.

"Yes…just like that." Professor Summersong muttered.

"Cora, you're not being reasonable." Bridgit stopped her friend. "I think that, unless we know where it is and how to get it, we don't have the time to go gallivanting about. We have a mission here and I have a strong feeling that Voldemort's armies are going to attack us within the next little while and we can't afford to be out while that's happening."

"Yes, thank you Professor Trelawney! Do you have anything more substantial than these feelings?" Cora demanded proof.

"Well…" Bridgit stopped for a moment.

The feeling was there, very strong. She'd always had a knack for strategy and it just seemed like that would be the sensible next move for them to take, seeing as his smaller scale attempts had been abysmal failures. She knew this, just not why.

"It's what makes sense!" She finally said. "Are you going to throw away your responsibility to everyone else's lives just to maybe save one? It's not- just- we're needed here! Protect the numbers here!"

"Girls…"

"Yes we should save one! There are no numbers! There are no figures! Just people! These numbers you keep talking about are just a collection of ones! He may be sour grapes, but we can't just abandon him like that without even trying! Why should I value strangers above friends? What about loyalty? Don't you even care?" Cora was starting to turn red in the face.

"But we have nothing! No ideas, no locations, no point! We aren't going to just stumble onto any particular antidote. If the British Ministry hasn't been able to find their base, what makes you think two stupid teenage kids will? This isn't like a fantasy book, Cora! This is real life. Bad things happen and it's up to those left to carry on and to protect what's important! Even Snape would say that if he was here!" Bridgit looked furiously at her friend. "If we're going to be any value to the mission, we have to be here! Don't put that at risk just because you feel guilty!"

"Girls…"

"Fine! You're right! I'm stupid and no good and everyone would be better off if I wasn't here because I ruin everything! I won't spoil your strategic value, then. I'll go do it myself!" Cora screamed and ran from the room.

"We don't need sentiment. What we need right now is power." Bridgit growled after her friend, glaring at her receding figure.

She turned to say something to Professor Summersong and stopped, feeling prickles going up her spine. Professor Summersong was ashen-faced, looking like she had seen a ghost. Although, not the typical ones, mind you. More the ones that reside in your memory; those are ultimately more frightening. Bridgit stopped in confusion, feeling as though she had somehow done something wrong.

"What's wrong, Professor?" She asked softly.

She gave Bridgit a strange look.

"I'm not sure." Came her hushed reply. "But maybe you should think more about why we're fighting and not how. We're fighting an idea. Loss or victory is inconsequential. The only way to beat the idea is to live by a different one; no matter what happens."

"But…I don't understand. If we don't care about loss or victory, then why do we even bother fighting?"

"The very reason we fight is because our ideals call for us to protect those who can't fight."

"If our ideals are so important, then why not pull out all the stops?"

"Because you want to be able to live with yourself and what you've done afterwards." Summersong finished quietly and then headed out the door.

Bridgit stood in stunned silence, completely baffled, listening to her fading footsteps. She walked from the room, not caring where she was going, and just kept on walking, her mind plagued by thoughts and uncomfortable questions.

How could Cora not understand? Why did Summersong seem to take her side? She wasn't wrong, was she? It wasn't like one person could take on an army and defeat it themselves. Numbers _were_important and getting the greatest good for the greatest number should have been their primary focus.

"Why can't Voldemort just go senile? Then we wouldn't have a problem." She muttered to herself.

She looked up and realized she had wandered to Dumbledore's secret lair. Before she could turn around and head off somewhere else, the secret door opened and out came a strangely blank-looking Dumbledore. He suddenly noticed her and his face broke into an airy grin.

"Why, hello Miss Firecatcher. How are you this afternoon? Good I trust. Let's go and have a cup of tea, shall we?" Not waiting for a response, he grabbed her by the wrist and ushered her up some stairs into his office.

"Actually, sir…I'm not exactly doing so great." She admitted.

"Perfect! Blueberry raspberry it is!" Dumbledore sat her down on a comfy chair in front of his desk, sat down in his own plush chair, and conjured up some fruity-smelling tea. "I must say that I am impressed with your child's academic achievement. Furthermore, sir or madame, I am especially pleased with the positive addition your child name has had to our school community. Do you have any questions about Hogwart's?"

"Actually…why are there so many redundant and stupid secret passageways and rooms?" Bridgit asked the one question that had plagued her mind. "And why are some of them dangerous?"

"Nothing at Hogwart's is at all dangerous, sir or madame. In fact, your beloved little name has absolutely nothing to fear. Here at Hogwart's, a student has never died. Ever. Or been neglected. Ever. And the secret rooms are full of educational stimuli so that students can perfect their craft while being completely safe at all times. Thank you for shopping at Hogwart's elementary school. We hope you will stop by in the future." He finished.

"…Uhhh…but-"

"Do you like Quidditch? Here at Hogwart's, Quidditch exists in its purest form. It is quite exciting, but perfectly safe, I might add. The worst injury to date is when young Mr. Potter, yes, the famous one, laughed too much and got a stitch in his side from all the fun he was having."

"Okay…I _know_ that one was a lie. What's wrong with you?"

"Why, nothing, Miss Firecatcher. What ever would give you that idea? I am not lying." Dumbledore smiled emptily.

"Yes you are! Who the hell are you? Not even the real Dumbledore is this bizarre!" Bridgit stood up and took some steps backwards in case she needed to protect herself from this hideous imposter.

"I know!" She continued on a sudden flash of insight. "You're his evil twin and that's not your real head! It's a false one!" She ran up to the Dumbposter, grabbed him by the forehead and twisted his head.

Like she had anticipated, the head came free with very little trouble at all.

"Ah _ha_! Now I see you for who you really are: Severedhead!" Bridgit crowed, facing her faceless opponent.

Instead of leaping to action, the headless body suddenly fell over onto its side. Upon impact, it shattered into hundreds of pieces. Bridgit stared at it in horror.

"Oh God…I killed him….Does anyone have any glue? I killed the headless master of disguise!" Bridgit looked around nervously, not sure of what to do.

How could he reveal the location of the Deatheater's secret lair if he was dead?

"What have I done?" Bridgit moaned.

"By the looks of things, you've destroyed my secret liar." Dumbledore sighed as he entered the room.

"Your secret liar? Don't you mean lair?" She asked, dropping a lamp and breaking it.

"No. This is my office. This," he gestured to the shattered being, "was my secret liar. You see, Miss Firecatcher, through my years of teaching I have learned that parents don't really want to know the truth about their child's academic record and I, as an upholder of learning, cannot tell a lie. So, I created this golem, the Dumbledore liar, to go to those tedious parent – teacher interviews in my place. I usually keep it locked in the closet, but it appears dear Rufus had escaped and met a tragic end by your capable hands." He sighed. "I shall have to make a new one."

"Right. Well, sorry about your Rufus…I'll just be on my way before I can ruin anything else." She kicked over a cabinet full of fine bone china.

"I couldn't help but notice that you seem a little…out of sorts." Dumbledore prompted. "Seeing as there's tea ready, why don't you join me for some?"

He gestured to the chair she had been sitting in, which rightened itself. With a wave of his wand, he fixed everything in the room and Rufus' remains vanished.

"Well, not like I have anywhere else to be." She discreetly tucked her schedule into her pocket and sat down.

"You seem a little less sprightly than usual. I must apologize for my earlier outburst. Severus is a good friend of mine and I reacted quite strongly. I hope that I did not damage your well-being with my tirade of abuse."

"No…it's not so much that. Although I must admit that it did not leave me with any degree of the warm fuzzies. It's just an argument that I was having with Cora. The heart of the matter is that she would rather gamble on saving one life than maintaining the larger number. It's all well and good in fiction, but in real life it can pose a great tactical error that could be fatal. And I seemed to upset Professor Summersong as well, although I'm not sure why."

"As for Tigerlily's response, I can't honestly say why she would have reacted like that. However, this topic you bring up has been debated for centuries and there is no correct answer; you may both be right."

"We can't both be right!" Bridgit's linear mind found this turn incomprehensible.

"Miss Willowstaff's and your own point of view are two extremes on a continuum of options. While there is no real right answer, it is often felt that a balance will yield the best results. There should be regard for the many, but one cannot also neglect the few. Were it not for personal and, by your view, selfish relationships, human growth would be invariably stunted. Without the capacity to care for the few, one would find great difficulty caring about the many. Furthermore, it is quite damaging to the human psyche not to feel important. So, while there are times where one must keep the larger picture in mind, one must never neglect their friends and family." Dumbledore rambled on in his old man way.

Bridgit looked pensive for a moment.

"So essentially, you're saying that caring about a smaller number of people is what combines and adds up to the greater good? And that the bigger picture and the smaller picture are, in the end, the same?" She sought clarification.

"What is a line but a disconnected circle?" Dumbledore smiled.

"What is a parallelogram but a rectangle sat on by a fat guy?" Bridgit replied.

Dumbledore smiled, almost a little sadly.

"I rather enjoyed having this conversation with you. As I suspected, you're not as vapid as you pretend to be when you're putting on a show for those around you."

Bridgit was a little taken aback and laughed weakly while looking quickly at her shoes.

"Well, you're not as senile as you pretend to be when you're trying to avoid the responsibility of student endangerment." She conceded.

"Touché." Dumbledore mused.

"Don't worry, sir. I won't tell anyone if you don't." Bridgit swore.

"Very well. Although I hope someday you'll have the faith in those around you to take your mask off and just be yourself."

"Tch. That'll be the day." Bridgit muttered as she sauntered out of his office in silent thanks.

The door slammed behind her.

"You're welcome, Miss Firecatcher." Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

* * *

"Stupid Bridgit!" Cora kicked over a suit of armor in her running angry rampage down the hallway.

"Say there, young lady! That's not very good manners!" One of the embroidered tapestry people called after her.

"Shut up you- you- Bawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!" Cora burst into tears.

"I say! It is not gentlemanly behavior to make a young wench cry." Sir Cadogan, who was hanging out in a bathing lady's picture, butted in.

The tapestry man appeared embarrassed. "It's nothing to worry about. Just don't do it aga- hey! What are you doing?" He was interrupted while trying to comfort her.

Cora had buried her face in the tapestry and was openly sobbing into its ancient woven threads.

"You're giving me water damage! Get off! Get off!" The tapestry person squelched.

"Fine then!" She roared, ripping it off the wall.

She threw it on the floor, stomped on it, and then continued on her merry way.

"God save the Queen." The tapestry moaned.

"That wench has spirit, I say!" Sir Cadogan marveled at his new hero.

"Hey…are you okay?" A fruit bowl asked the tapestry man.

There was no reply.

* * *

~I've gotta hide somewhere. No one can know that I'm crying. I'll just duck into this bathroom.~

Cora pushed open the door to the lady's room and closed it quietly. The bathroom's interior was quite decrepit and covered in layers of disturbed dust. Brushing against cobwebs, Cora shuffled her way inside, sniffling pitifully. A ghostly head emerged from the nearest toilet.

"Oh, what ho! Another visitor!" A ghostly girl swooped forward to examine the new arrival. "If only Harry would come to visit me. Then this would be the best day of my entire existence- living included!" She cooed, having secret naughty thoughts about the living Mr. Potter.

Cora was hit by a sudden realization.

"You must be Moaning Myrtle!" She said aloud.

Myrtle, having been recognized and being around someone more miserable than herself, was on cloud nine. Cora had heard about Moaning Myrtle and her tragic death. She'd heard how the bathroom was often unusable because of the poor girl's fragile feelings at her own unmourned demise. Cora turned to this refugee of the apathetic and gave a sympathetic nod.

"You're a lot uglier than I heard. Is it true that no one cares that you're dead and they only view you as a nuisance?" She tried to make friendly conversation.

"AWAAAAAAAAAAUUUGH!" Myrtle squeal-sobbed, diving back into the u-bend of the pipe where she kept her secret pictures of Harry sleeping. Only he could cheer her up now.

"She really is a freak." Cora wiped the tears from her eyes and sat up on a sink as the floor began to flood with Myrtle's tears of sadness. "Well, at least now I can be alone."

"Guess again!" Came a disembodied voice what sounded a lot like Snape and came from a raggedy robe like Snape's! The only difference was the lack of a head protruding from the top of said raggedy robe…like…

"Severedhead!" Cora shouted in alarm.

"'Tis true! I, Severedhead, have been hiding out in the girl's washroom!" He said proudly, for unknown reasons.

"That's great…"

"And now, I'm afraid I'll have to erase your memories to protect my precious secret hideout. You understand, don't you? I really have no choice." He pitifully offered his explanation.

Cora jumped to her feet, causing a large splash in the flooded toilet water.

"There's no way I'm going to let you do that, you fink!" She roared. "I'm taking you down."

"Well, I would rather not fight and solve this quandary non-violently so that I can return to my task of…**killing my brother**."

Cora was certain that, if he'd had eyes and a mouth, said eyes would be roving madly while said mouth would begin frothing. He was truly Snape's brother.

"What? His being poisoned isn't good enough for you?" Cora yelled, feeling more angry than sad now.

"What? When did that happen?"

She decided to vent this new-found anger on the nearest being.

"Like you don't know!" She shouted. "_Expelliarimus_!"

Severedhead sounded like he gasped in surprise as he deftly managed to dodge the spell. It ricocheted off of a mirror behind the hapless villain and flew back towards Cora. She hurled herself to the ground as fast as she could, getting soaked in the process. The spell slammed into Myrtle's toilet, exploding it into shards of porcelain. A big chunk of the toilet caught Severedhead in the stomach and he doubled over. A cascade of water erupted from the wall, further flooding the bathroom.

"Boo hoo!" Myrtle cried. "Now my u-bend pipe is a gaping hole! And my pictures are ruined. I'll have to take some more."

She phased through the wall without a moment's hesitation to join Ron at his nightly Harry-watching. When she reached the boy's dorm, she was surprised to find that not only Ron, but Hedwig and Dobby were watching the young boy as he blissfully slumbered, unaware of his entourage of stalkers.

"That was well played…but what will you do against **this**!" Severedhead cast an empathy spell.

Cora was suddenly plunged into a strange world that she had never thought of before: other people's feelings. She could feel the pain of growing up nice in a family of evil jerks and the envy of her brother having a head, while she did not. She could even feel the desperate determination to right things once and for all, even if it cost her her life. She could feel everything and could see the world through Severedhead's tortured eyes…and she didn't care.

"_Explodeus_!" She blew up a nearby pipe, showering the room with a thick layer of steam. "Your empathy spells are useless against me. I'm far too selfish! Bwa ha ha ha haa!"

"I tried to end this civilly, but you leave me no choice. _Aquafina_!" His spell encouraged the water to become a thick fog in the room, obscuring Cora's vision.

Knowing any sound would betray her movement, she kept her mouth shut and crouched down. There was no point in taking any steps, as he would be able to hear the water plishing with each footfall.

~What am I going to do? What am I going to do?~ Cora thought desperately, knowing each passing second was tolling her doom.

"Cora? Are you in here?" The door creaked open.

The heavy mists spilled from the room and a stream of water burst through the door. Once the opaque mist had left, all could see Professor Summersong and her startled face as she took in the scene. Using the distraction to her advantage, Cora hammer-kicked Severedhead in the crotch. How, you ask? She's just that awesome.

"I have no regrets." He wheezed and then collapsed.

"Professor Summersong, look what I did! I caught the bad guy!" Cora proudly stood on the unconscious man's chest.

"That's nice, dear, but could you get off of him? I think he might be drowning." Professor Summersong prompted her most violent student.

"Fine." Cora sighed heavily, planting her precious, precious boots in more of the stupid water.

"Well, let's take care of this first, though." Professor Summersong looked about the bathroom. "_Plumbus reparo_!"

Nothing happened. Then, with a loud clang, a nearby grate crashed open as an army of four house elves poured out.

"We shall take care of the mess young misses." One of the surlier elves spoke up.

"Tee hee! You tease!" Summersong batted her eyelashes.

"We have tried to capture and relocate her, but the ghost simply will not leave. We've had to resort to this." One of the elves sighed, dropping a mousetrap into the toilet with a soft ploosh.

"Enough of that." Cora turned her attention back to Severedhead, whose body was mostly submerged in water, likely in the process of drowning. "Where is the rebel base?" She demanded, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him back and forth.

The unconscious man gave no reply.

"Don't make me use a phonebook!" She raised a fist threateningly.

"Miss Willowstaff, that's quite enough. He's unconscious and is unable to reply."

"Unconscious, eh? I'll beat the living daylights _into_ him, then!" She raised both her fists and Severedhead timbered over into the water.

"No!" Professor Summersong restrained her before she hurt someone…named Severedhead. "This is what I was talking about. You really need to learn control. Emotion is all well and good, but not if it overrides your reason."

"I don't know how to ignore my feelings and why should I? Aren't people always saying you should listen to your heart and all that?"

"It is important to understand your feelings, but you also need to recognize when it's appropriate to act on them. If you're completely ruled by your emotions, then you will be controlled by things in your life that you don't want to be controlled by – like fear."

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Cora snapped.

"I think you're very much afraid. You're afraid that people will find out that you're not as strong and confident as you pretend to be." She gave Cora a level stare.

"I- You- You!" Cora stammered.

"Use your reason. What would happen if your friends figured this out about you; that you have doubts and fears?" Summersong prompted her student.

"They wouldn't want me around. They'd leave." Cora felt tears welling up inside of her eyeballs.

"Really? Do you think that's what would actually happen?"

"Yes! We're a team. We depend on each other in battle, and if they found out how useless I am, they'd leave!"

"Is all the value you place in a person based on how useful they are to you?" She gave the girl a reproachful look.

"Well…no. But…but I got cocky and let the dementor sneak up on me. I let everyone down! I'm so stupid. Why would anyone want me around?" Cora spluttered.

"You made a mistake – you're human. Everyone messes up sometimes; no one expects you to be perfect. What's important is that you learn from your mistakes so that you can do better next time." Professer Summersong continued her after school special.

"Well, I guess you're right." Cora sniffed, calming down. "I could use some more control." She conceded.

"I'm glad you understand. Now let's go get this body over to Dumbledore's." She suggested, grabbing an ankle. "On second thought, he's far too heavy and I'm too lazy to use magic right now. I'm going to conveniently leave to go get Dumbledore." She winked, heading for the door.

"Ah. I see." Cora winked back as the door swung shut behind Summersong. "Fwa hwa hwa hwa! Now I am free to use this truth serum what I pilfered from the late Snape's potion closet." Cora giggled, pouring the mixture down Severedhead's gullet.

She picked up a nearby bucket and mop. Since the bucket was metal, she smashed it with the stick end of the mop, creating a noisy din.

"WAKE UP!" She yelled.

"Gr jarh!" Severedhead started, sitting up abruptly.

"Excellent." Cora grinned. "Tell me, my dear Severedhead. Where is the location of the place where the Deatheaters are currently hiding!"

"Hrrr….I can't tell a lie. They are hiding at Castle Mount Snakepit. Really, when you think about it, it's the only logical place they'd be." He muttered sleepily.

"Where the hell is that?" Cora muttered under her breath.

Severedhead, still under the spell, took this as an actual question.

"Here. This is a map. I keep it in my sock. Castle Mount Snakepit is the large green blob in the middle." He handed her a soggy, but still legible map.

"Thanks! You've been very helpful. Too bad you don't have any free will!" She laughed harshly.

Using a fairly new spell, she stuck him to the ceiling for the authorities to find – just like a veritable Spiderman!

"Bridgit, awayyyy!" She shouted, naming her destination.

"I say, young lady!" Someone called out to her from the hallway.

She turned around to find Sir Cadogan puffing after her on a fat little pony. He stopped in a painting of a soup can to address her.

"What do you want?" Cora asked, dubious that he had anything useful to say.

"I heard through the grapevine that you apprehended the evil-doer that was menacing the school. I must congratulate you! You remind me of a young me, in fact, with all your heroic deeds and having your name feared throughout the land. Why, we could be twins!" He doddered on.

"Riiiight." Cora gave him a sidways look. "So…you're quite the fighter, eh?"

"Right! Why, just this week I wandered into a terrible doodle a student had made of a reprehensible beast that was part cat, mostly dragon and all horrifying. 'Twas an epic battle and in the end, I destroyed the monstrosity. My only regret is that I was unable to kill the student to prevent him from creating more crimes against rational thought."

"Hmmm…actually, I've just thought of a way you can redeem yourself for letting that blackguard get away!"

* * *

Bridgit was walking down the hallway, destination unknown. She needed some time to think…and some brain to do the thinking with. Cora was always a good sounding board, but Bridgit already knew what she would say. She'd tell Bridgit not to wear the green shoes, because they made her look fat.

But Bridgit liked the colour green! It went with her eyes!

Oh, the conundrum.

"Hey, Bridgit!" Cora's voice called out from behind her.

Bridgit turned around and her eyes figuratively burst from her head.

"I've found a compromise for our problem!" Cora chirped, walking next to a knight in full armor riding a small pony.

"Uhh…isn't that-" Bridgit began.

"Sir Cadogan, at your service madame. This is my noble steed, Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh. The third." The knight introduced his most not-illustrious self.

Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh III didn't bother crying. It was already dead. It just lived out its shameful existence dreaming of glue factories.

"That's great…but I can't help but notice that you're not in a painting." Bridgit was now waiting to see if the tea she had drunk hadn't been drugged.

"'Tis no illusion, I assure you. 'Tis in the flesh!" He gestured broadly.

"Just think of it as my compromise." Cora offered. "We'll leave him here in our stead to guard Harry while we go find the cure for Snape! His poisoning, I mean."

"Look, I'm not going unless you have a better idea of where to find him." Bridgit sighed, reiterating her position.

"Is this map good enough?" Cora crowed, holding up her newest favorite toy.

"And how! Let us away!" Bridgit laughed in sheer amazement, but didn't find the curiosity to ask where Cora had come by the map. There was a far more pressing question on her mind.

"So…how'd you make him flesh?" She asked.

"Well…he's not entirely flesh in the platonic sense. You see, I used one of my many honestly-begotten potions bestowed upon me by Snape's potion cabinet to temporarily bring him to three-dimensional existence. I also got this can of soup." She smiled.

"Well…that's all I need to know." Bridgit was completely satisfied with this.

"Good luck on your quest, young ladies. And never fear: I shall watch over the esteemed Prince Potter in your absence." Sir Cadogan swore. "With this new flesh body, I'll be unstoppable! Ha! Ha! Away, Sunshine Rainbow Baby Pox!" He hurrahed.

"I thought it was Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh the third." Bridgit wondered aloud.

"Who cares?" Cora grabbed her friend's sleeve and ushered her onwards.

They would find that life saving substance…or be mildly inconvenienced trying.


	25. The Castle on Parliament Hill

**Chapter Twenty-two: The Castle on Parliament Hill**

Malfoy was a spoiled rich kid. As such, his father had bribed the quidditch team into accepting him by buying them all expensive brooms to make up for his son's lack of talent. Money could buy everything these days. Hurrah!

Only now, the number of brooms seems to have decreased by two. Oh, the sorrow.

"These brooms are pretty awesome!" Bridgit laughed, flying through the air.

"The Slytherins will never know they're gone! Or if they do, I don't care!" Cora giggled, smacking into an eagle.

Like Fabio, she was unharmed.

"So, where does the map say to go?" Bridgit struck up useful conversation.

"Well, the map says it's somewhere in London, so I figured we'd follow the Hogwart's express tracks to get there and then ask for help." Cora laid out the beautifully simple plan.

"What are we going to do for money? We have ten dollars Canadian, no British pounds and no sickles, galleons or bungley-boos from the wizard currency side of things. This might take a while and we'll probably want to eat." Bridgit prompted, feeling a little rumbley.

"You'd be surprised how much money those idiots from Slytherin kept in their lockers." Cora gave a smug grin of triumph.

"Gee…I hope that no one notices that we're missing." Bridgit mused.

"Of course they will! We're awesome. It will be like the sun has gone out from their pathetic little lives." Cora crowed.

"Well, it's not like we'd miss anything in classes. Snape's kind of dead right now." Bridgit reasoned aloud.

"Yeah! Don't worry, we should get to London in a day or so, so even if we are missed, we won't be gone too long." Cora braced herself for the journey.

* * *

The continents shuddered under a darkened sky as flocks of birds flew about in a frenzied flurry. Horses screamed in terror, beating their hooves against small children and spiders weaved messages in their webs that read: the apocalypse is coming. What was the cause of this clamor? What bizarre event could invoke such mayhem?

The authors are preparing to write about Harry Potter and what he is doing instead of their "awesome" "Original Characters". May the gods have mercy on us all.

* * *

In the day following the quidditch incident, the students were strangely apathetic. After all, crap like that happened all the time at Hogwarts and this time the only casualty had been everyone's least-favorite teacher. All in all, the general consensus was that it came out to be a positive experience in the end. Harry Potter, however, was having trouble enjoying the moment.

"I find Bridgit and Cora's disappearances odd enough but, why are _you_ here?" He asked sir Cadogan very pointedly.

"Why, to protect your very essence, young prince." Cadogan replied.

"JHFGSDKHFKHDFGKJDLHK!" Rainbow Sunshine Baby Laugh the third screamed and attacked Harry.

"No, Baby Laugh! Bad girl!" He hit his male horse on the head with his lance.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The pony collapsed into a heap on the floor and sobbed.

"Could you please just…leave me alone?" Harry pleaded.

"Never fear, young Prince! I shall look after your needs and protect you from harm! Quickly, we must away to potions to save you from an untimely detention and the ravages of ignorance!" He cried, abandoning his insane horse and whisking Harry off to the dungeon.

"Hey Harry, could I be your new lab partner? Hermione said Ron is her partner now. I need one just in case the new teacher is like Snape and will unleash his fury on me for the most trivial of inconveniences." Neville whined.

"Gee Neville, Ron never told me-"

"Halt, young knave! You must keep at least one lance's breadth away from the young Prince at all times. I shan't have any sneak attacks!" Sir Cadogan exploded.

"But then, how shall we be lab partners?" Neville wrung his hands nervously.

"Yeah, Neville's my friend…sort of… and I don't think-"

"I'LL be your lab partner! I shall make the best potions you have ever seen!" Sir Cadogan puffed out his chest.

"I hate you.' Harry growled.

"Good morning, class. I am your substitute potions teacher. My name is….Mister Flansberg." He wrote his name out on the board.

"Ah, it's too late in the year to learn another teacher's name. I'll just call you…replacement Professor Snape." Malfoy volunteered aloud.

"…Uhhhhh."

"Excuse me, professor." Hermione piped up to spare him having to deal with Malfoy any further.

"Ah, it's just mister Flansberg. I-I don't have a PHD or anything like that." Mr. Flansberg muttered.

"Well, that makes _you_ grossly under qualified." Hermione snorted, then turned to talk to her precious Ronny-kins.

_Why did I have to be a teacher…_ Mister Flansberg griped to himself. _I hated teaching health, hated drama even more, chemistry was abysmal and now I'm teaching magic weasel children who hate me. Yessir…this is not a distinguished career at all._

"Well, due to the nature of your past teacher's injuries, he wasn't able to leave any lesson plans or curriculum or anything useful, so I was thinking that today we should make him some get well soon cards, since Madame Pomfrey informed me that no one has ever visited him or even given him flowers after his injury."

"There's a reason for that, Mr. Flansberg." Harry offered darkly.

"Yes, well, I need time to come up with some lesson plans, so you'll just have to do it anyway. Have fun." He sighed and flipped through the textbook. "If it's any consolation, I won't proof-read them."

_No….no….no. These potions are all so dangerous! And the students all seem so stupid. There's no way in hell I'm going to let them do any of these. I'll just have to think of something else for them to do._

"Duuuuh…crayon." Replacement Crabbe announced, sticking it up his nose. "Get well soon, proseffor Snake."

"Here Replacement Crabbe, I'll help you." Replacement Goyle chimed. "I've already finished mine, so I have spare time to help the needy."

Replacement Crabbe dully noted a shiny, sparkly card with flowers charmed on it that moved in a warm summer breeze.

Hermione crossed her arms, scowling darkly.

"What does he think we are, six year olds?" She muttered.

"Hey, look at my card." Ron beamed, drawing a deformed monkey with a crayon.

It had an arrow pointing to it labeling the primate a "Professor Snape".

"Ron, I can't believe you'd intellectually debase yourself like this." Hermione snapped.

"You're right…I should fix that." Ron drew an arrow through its head.

'Dear Professor Snape', Harry wrote, 'I realize clinging to life is difficult, so if you feel the need to succumb to the darkness I won't hold it against you.'

Malfoy smirked, not planning to follow the rules of replacement Professor Snape.

'Dear sir,' he wrote in girly writing, 'if I told you you had a nice body, would you hold it against me? From, Hermione.' He laughed at its sheer brilliance.

"What ho!" Sir Cadogan revealed a lumpy and misshapen-looking paper mache horse. "This spiritual guide horse shall enter his subconscious mind and whisk him away to safety."

"Mr. Flansberg, I think we're all done making cards. What should we do now?" Neville raised his hand.

"Cripes! Already? Oh, alright then. Break into teams of four and make up a skit about famous historical moments that involved potions. Your skits should give us the historical setting as well as information about the potion. No actual potions, potions ingredients or potion-like substances may be used at any time during your skit." He gave them an assignment. "So, chop chop! Get cracking." He clapped his hands.

"What the hell is this rubbish?" Hermione growled.

"Hooray! I love potions now!" Neville wept tears of joy.

"Finally, I can express my inner soul through the medium of theatre. Now all can learn of the sensitive boy lurking within this hallowed frame." Replacement Goyle sighed.

"Yeah…I'm not going to be in your group." Malfoy edged away from his lacking lackey. Har har.

* * *

Sammy and Reagan sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at their respective lunches.

_This is it! Today is the day. I will finally ask him out and then I'll know for sure. No more second-guessing!_ Sammy steeled herself.

_Yum! This pudding is really good._ Reagan smiled.

"Ummm…hey, Reagan?" Sammy began, painfully awkward.

"Yes?" He gazed at her with the full intensity of his beauty ray.

"Uh…it's your birthday, so I, uh, got you this present…you know…for your birthday." She handed him a small envelope.

"Oh! I wonder what it could be." Reagan opened the envelope and smiled in delight. "Tickets to Mozart's 'The Magic Flute'! How did you know?"

"I've always known of your love of opera." Sammy smiled in forced aloofness.

_This is it! The right moment. I must ask him out now before anything could possibly go wrong._

"Oh, Sammy! You're my best friend in the whole world!" Reagan threw his arms around her.

"Ah….yes." Sammy died A LOT on the inside.

_Well, I guess that's it then. He only wants to be friends_. Her inner self started crying.

"Although," He let her go for a moment and looked at her almost appraisingly, "I have been thinking lately that maybe we could be more than friends. Would you like to make the opera a date?" Reagan asked.

Sammy only stared at him in stunned silence.

"Yes!" She shouted quickly so that he couldn't take it back.

He smiled, "It's a date then!"

The two returned to their breakfast, both glowing a little more than before. Sammy ate her breakfast with much gusto.

_This is the best oatmeal EVER!_ She thought in order to cover up her tears of joy. Constant vigilance!

* * *

"Hooray! It's London…or least the edge of." Bridgit cheered as the tracks headed into a more urban setting.

"Okay, let's land and walk into town." Rose suggested, keeping in mind the segregation between magic and non-magic folk.

They landed on the tracks and, with a broom over their shoulders, they continued walking until they reached the train station. Escaping from said train station was laughably easy. Ha ha! One poor man did ask them if they had just come out of the brick wall. They told him no and he was both satisfied and relieved. Wandering around London and following a map, they happened upon a Zellers.

"Wow. I didn't know they had these in the UK." Bridgit raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Hooray for globalization!" Cora cheered. "Let's go inside for a snack."

Entering the store, the two were greeted by a small army of employees.

"Customers!" They gasped in amazement.

"Good afternoon and welcome to Zellers. As you can see, we're getting better and better everyday, just like the commercial says. Why, we've started cleaning the store regularly and have been trying some of that customer service. Would you like some customer service?"

"Uh…no."

"Oh. Please? We're so lonely."

"Back away…" Bridgit muttered under her breath.

The two bolted from the store, never to be seen there again.

* * *

"I'm not hungry anymore. The terror that ravaged my belly has made me feel too scared to eat." Bridgit huffed after they had gotten the safe distance of two kilometers away from the Zellers.

"Well, I guess we should just head for Castle Mount Snakepit, then." Cora muttered, pulling out the map again.

The two embarked on an epic, half hour journey by foot before they reached the location where the map indicated Castle Mount Snakepit would be. Not surprisingly, it wasn't there. In fact, the building occupying that space was the British Parliament Building.

"What the crap is this?" Cora demanded. "The map said it's over there. Why isn't it there?"

"This might be a little late for this question, but really, if it was in the middle of London then why would no one have found it yet? Obviously Severedhead was given a dud map because he sucks." Bridgit sighed. "I guess now there really isn't much we can do for Snape."

"Yeah…I guess so." Cora began pondering.

"What should we do?" Bridgit asked, being conscious that Cora still might want to look around for a bit.

"Let's go shopping." Cora decided. "And while we're out, we'll get Snape an afterlife present like the Egyptians did for their dead people."

"Uh…that was only for _important_ dead people." Bridgit corrected her friend.

"BURN!" Cora laughed.

"Well, if you really want to shop so much, this map says there's a magical shopping district behind this dumpster called Ransack Avenue. But, if memory serves, don't you usually have to do something special to get in?" Bridgit eyed the dumpster, wondering what magical secrets it held.

"No, you just push it out of the way." A tall, thin man offered as he passed them.

"Oh. Okay then." Cora shoved it out of the way.

Ransack Avenue was far from majestic. In fact, it was far from rubbish. It was downright crappy.

"Let's just go in here." Bridgit muttered in embarrassment, heading into the first shop she saw that wasn't made of cardboard.

"It's just like back home." Cora fondly recalled her street urchin days. "Bridgit, look at the prices! The savings! The savings!"

"What ho, there _young ladies_!" The cheerful salesperson of the structurally sound shop greeted them. "And welcome to Gallivanting Pots Megastore! My name is not important, but my savings are! See this one here," he pointed to a gigantic cauldron, "owned by a little old lady. She only drove it on Wednesdays to worship Satan. It's practically new!"

"Wow! A Gulliver-class gallivanting pot! You don't see those everyday!" Cora admired the hunk of iron.

"Ah, I see the young miss is already familiar with the wonders of gallivanting pots." The man simpered. "Obviously a lady of class."

"Tee hee!" Cora tittered. "You tease."

"Uh…what?"

"Sorry, that's my unworldly friend who hasn't heard of these. She's never kissed a boy." Cora explained.  
"Ah, I see. Well, gallivanting pots are an economic product for today's family on the go. They double as both a potions cauldron and a method of transportation." He hopped into the cauldron and it putt-putted around the room very slowly. "It doesn't get very high off the ground, but its thick cast iron armor will protect you from most-sized dogs."

"Well, I do worry about dogs," Cora admitted, "but what about bigger and more dangerous things, like, say, reindeer?"

Prompted into another marketing speech, the man prattled on.

"Oh yes, well just for this week we have a special. Buy an Odyssius-class cauldron and get our new horse cannon half off. That's practically free!"

"Blimey!" Cora grinned. "I am practical and I like free! How could I pass up a deal like that? I'll take two!"

"What are you doing?" Bridgit hissed.

"Trust me." Cora winked.

"Trust you? Are you mental?"

"Right. That'll be thirty sickles, twenty galleons and eighty-nine bungley-boos."

"Uhh…how about twenty-eight sickles, twenty galleons, forty bungley-boos and ninety spangledywhackers?" Cora haggled.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I'm in a pickle myself." He pointed to the loan shark standing beside him, taking out a thumb-breaking device. "I'm practically giving it away!"

Bridgit and Cora, not wanting to witness a mafia-style execution, quickly paid the man and hopped into their Gallivanting pots. With a gentle putt-putt, they meandered out of the shop and down the avenue.

"Do you really want to go into any of these shops? They all look like rubbish heaps." Bridgit griped.

"Well…I guess most of them aren't much to look at. Oh hey! Let's check out that one!" Cora pointed to Ethel and Maurice's Head Emporium, which, by Ransack Avenue's standards, appeared well-to-do. "We can get him a nicer face for the afterlife!"

"Well, I concede on the grounds that Snape will probably die and it would be tacky to come back empty handed."

"It looks like there's parking over there." Cora pointed to a closet full of brooms.

"Awesome!" Bridgit shoved her cauldron in, knocking all of the brooms over.

"Yay!" Cora added, breaking all of the brooms. "Cauldrons rule!"

She charmed their cauldrons to say "Honk if you want to die".

They strolled into the large, Safeway-esque store. Once inside, they were consumed by the soullessness of consumerism.

"Look! It's double-coupon day! I can get this large baked ham for next nothing with the purchase of half a chicken carcass!" Some fat lady marveled at the ham and chicken department.

"Ooo! I'm checking out the pirate head section!" Cora tore through the store headed for aisle eleven.

"Hmmm…I bet I'll think better on a not empty stomach." Bridgit mused.

She sauntered up to the deli counter oh so casually.

"I say there, fair food technician, do you have any free samples?" She prompted a random employee.

"Uhh…these are heads. Human heads. You don't eat them." He looked uncomfortable.

"What? Then why are they shaped like chickens and hams?" Bridgit recoiled in fear.

"Some people _really_ like ham."

"Well, I think I'll just mosey on to the import section then." Bridgit ran away to aisle thirty.

"This one's too scurvy." Cora sighed. "This one has scurvy." She tossed the head back onto the shelf and all of its teeth fell out.

"I like this one with the eye patch, but what kind of stupid pirate has dreadlocks?"

She picked up another head with a tentacle-lined mouth.

"It's perfect!" She smiled. "Now…how much is it- Nine hundred sickles? I could form my own cauldron gang and terrorize Eastern Europe for that kind of money. Forget the honest route. I'm gonna do a little five fingered discount." Cora sulked off.

* * *

"Hmmm…I guess Snape would probably like green more than red, so…I'll get the green Power Ranger head!" Bridgit lifted up the beautiful import head and helmet.

Then she looked at the price.

"On second thought, his head right now is perfect for him. May they both rest in peace." Somewhat deflated, she sat at the front of the store to wait for Cora.

A suspicious young lady walked past her and approached one of the courtesy clerks.

"My, it's a sunny, sunny day." She commented.

_This is Britain! _Bridgit took instant note. _It's never sunny in Britain. What's wrong with her?_

"Verily. And my how the larks sing, but only in the Czech Republic." The courtesy clerk replied.

"Would you like to play a sporting round of checkers?" The woman smiled.

"Yes. Do come in."

The two walked off towards the back of the store.

"That was not normal, even taking into account British slang." Bridgit sensed that something was amiss. "But I'm too hungry to care."

So she kept sitting in her plastic chair.

* * *

"Kick, kick, kick the grate, sneaking in the store." Cora sang as she kicked in a grate covering a ventilation shaft. "When will bad guys and mega-corporations learn? If you make it big enough to crawl through, it's like you're _giving_ away the merchandise."

She hefted herself up into the shaft and replaced the grate behind her.

"Oh, how this young Canadian girl fell into a life of thieving when faced by Britain's heinous price gouging." She bemoaned her imagined fate, ignoring her long history of petty theft.

She shuffled ably through the vent, her years of training finally paying off. Again.

"To ****Snakepit." Cora barely made out all of the words spoken, but the ones she did hear certainly peaked her interest.

"Time to spy." She quietly announced.

Crawling along, she came to another vent and peered down into a back room for employees. She instantly noticed one person not clad in gross polyester.

"What ho. That woman is non-uniformed and therefore should not be allowed in the employee lounge. Something is amiss!"

"So, anyway, once you get to the Binary Byte café, you order the stuff on the menu that no one would ever order." A man was explaining.

"And you're sure it will be obvious." The woman prompted.

"I promise. It's basically the exact same food, just charmed to look disgusting to discourage those who think it might be a joke. When you get to the desert menu, just say the secret code."

"Secret code? This all seems to be a somewhat ridiculous way to keep people out."

"To date, no undesirables have ever gotten into Castle Mount Snakepit."

Yep, Cora was definitely in the right place. And for once, at the right time, too.

"When asked if you would like the bill, reply 'no thanks, I left it in my other pants'. The waiter will then give you the special after dinner mints, that will allow you to see the entrance." He explained.

"And this security system works?" The woman asked dubiously.

"Well, yes. But our Lord is most unhappy with its silliness, which is why he has hired you, a security expert, to come up with another one, preferably involving riddles, traps and pits with spikes in them. You know, _real_ magic security. He wants it installed post haste because rumor has it an operative was captured by that cur Dumbledore. Who knows what he has already revealed?" He wept into his beard at the mere mention of his master's enemy.

"Well, in that case I had better get going. My presentation with a miniature model will take at least three hours alone, much less improving the castle's security." She sighed, tucking important rolled up documents under her arm.

"Good luck, junior lieutenant." The Deatheater made a weird salute.

"I shall have it." She returned it.

Cora used her awesome photographic memory to memorize the dumb-looking salute and the exchange words she assumed were customary. That would come in handy some day.

"Forget about Snape's head. I've got to infiltrate that castle to find the serum." Cora muttered, backing away from the vent.

She knew that there had to be a serum both for the sake of extortion and stupid people getting accidentally poisoned. She figured that that explained why the Daily Prophet had reported on a man who saved a puppy from a house fire and then promptly died.

She managed to emerge from the vent unseen and tried to replace the grate in such a way that it wasn't too obvious that it was hopelessly smashed. Being somewhat successful, she ran around the store looking for Bridgit. She eventually found her cohort sitting at the front of the store in a plastic chair.

"Are you really going to buy a head from here? They're so expensive." Bridgit held up her tiny money pouch.

"Forget that! We have bigger beans to fry!" Cora quietly and vaguely explained what she had learned.

"Well, forget buying a head! From now on the only evil empire I support is Wal*mart." Bridgit rejoiced in not having to cheat on her one true love. Oh how she missed being a junior sales representative scout and her seventy-five merit badges.

"Quickly, Robin! To the bat pots!" Cora shouted, running from the store.

The two hopped into their cauldrons and puttered along meaningfully towards where the map said the castle should be: Parliament!

"Wait! Wait! Wait wait wait!" They heard a strange, hoarse voice barking after them.

"They're on to us!" Cora cried.

Bridgit wheeled around to see who was following them.

"It's worse than you think!" She shrieked.

Following them at a loping run and gaining ground quickly was a large, black dog.

"Wait! Wait!" The dog barked.

"Dear God! The animals have learned to speak. Quickly, we must kill him before it spreads to the others!" Bridgit pulled her cannon into firing position.

"Fire phasers, Mister Worf!" Cora shouted.

The dog skidded to a halt, looking mortified.

"Arrrrrrrrgh!" Bridgit yelled, firing a plasma blast at the large, black dog.

It slammed into the dog's hind leg and Bridgit and Cora suddenly smelled hotdogs.

"Why, why why?" The dog whimpered, lying incapacitated on its side.

"Now to finish it!" Bridgit said coldly.

"Wait! You can't kill it. It's a marvel of modern science. It may one-day cure cancer. Could you live with yourself if it became _your_ fault people got cancer?" Cora talked her friend down from the finishing shot.

"You're right." Bridgit agreed. "Then I'd have to patent my name to replace the word 'cancer'. That would be horrible. Telling someone they're dying of face bridgit just doesn't have the same impact."

They puttered off then, leaving the wounded animal to die. The large, black dog wept to himself as he lay on his side, hurt that his efforts to help had come to this. Sometimes being an animagus wasn't as convenient as one would think.

* * *

"Thank you all for coming to this sudden staff meeting." Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement to everyone present. "I am relieved to say that Severedhead has been picked up by the Ministry without incident, so now, Severus, your life is no longer in danger." Dumbledore looked towards his chair and found it to be empty. "Ah yes, the poison." He deflated slightly. "May Anubis ignore your freakishly shriveled heart."

"Speaking of freaks…I haven't seen Bridgit and Cora recently. In fact, they've missed my class for two consecutive days and I just haven't the slightest clue where they could be." Professor Summersong batted her eyelashes.

"Oh yeah…they left us a note two days ago saying they were going to go look for the cure." Sammy piped up.

"Why didn' yeh' tell us?" Hagrid's beard gargled.

"Eh. We figured it would be a nice vacation…for the rest of the school!" Sammy smiled.

"Ba-zing!" Reagan giggled.

"Anyway, I'm sure they'll be fine. It's Britain I'm worried about." She waved it off.

"Very good then. As a final announcement, to ease inter-staff tension we are going to start an intramural bowling league. If you have a preferred team mate, please speak now."

"I want to go with Mr. Hagrid." Flitwick waved his tiny, tiny arms.

"In the interests of a monopoly on power, I'd like to go with you, sir." Professor McGonagall piped up, sidling in all nice and close.

"I'm going with Hoochie-mama!" Sprout hurrahed.

"I told you to stop calling me that." Madame Hooch growled. "Just because I didn't get my doctorate in magicology doesn't mean you can treat me like dirt."

"I want Madame Pomfrey." Professor Binns suddenly exclaimed.

Summersong gasped sharply. That only left Trelawney! Unless…

"I…I want Snape on my team!" She quickly interjected before Trelawney could send the electrical impulses to induce speech.

"But then who shall I team with?" Trelawney asked after five minutes of silence.

"I came prepared for such an occasion. After the death of our last janitor, the late Mr. Filch, I anticipated the need for Mr. Chatterton." Professor Summersong took out a wind-up pair of chattering teeth.

"I say! How delightful." Trelawney clapped her hands together in amusement.

The teeth chattered in response and Trelawney's face looked a little more flushed.

"I think he likes me." She murmured, somewhat bashful.

"Well, that wraps up this meeting. Miss Hellstorm, Mr. Starsinger, would you care to join us for a post-meeting nosh?" Dumbledore offered.

"Uhh…no thanks. We have an opera to get to." Sammy dodged having to play designated sober to a group of drunken British wizards.

"Are you sure? Opera's always so much better when you're drunk." Dumbledore winked in mirth, belying his experience.

"We're fine, sir, thank you." Reagan smiled politely, not wanting to see any of them with their inner inhibitions removed.

"Right then! More of Madame Rosemerta for me." He smiled lecherously.

"Boo hoo!" McGonagall quietly sobbed.

Sammy and Reagan quickly retreated from the meeting. The rest of the teachers quietly stood and shuffled out. Professor Summersong waited behind and, when she was finally alone with Dumbledore, she turned to him, her eyes blazing with a need. A need to know. The truth.

"Headmaster, can I have a moment of your time?" She asked.

"Just one and not a moment more. Goodbye." He turned and walked into the wall.

"That act's getting old and it's not going to work anymore. I have suspected for some time that you may have been keeping something from me." She pressed.

"Ah, I see." He suddenly became less doddering.

"It…has something to do with her, doesn't it? With Bridgit." Carefully she broached the subject.

"Perhaps, but I feel it is not time for you to know." Dumbledore released a heavy sigh.

"And who are you to decide that?" She demanded sharply.

"Please, Tigerlily. I ask you as both a friend and colleague to trust my judgment. You will know when the time is right." He sagely offered.

"Is this about trust? Do you not trust me?" Summersong asked, somewhat affronted. "I thought I'd made up for my past by now. Hell, you trust Severus and even _I_ wouldn't do that!"

"I suppose it has become a matter of trust. Your lack of trust in me. Boo hoo." He dabbed at his eyes with the crusty end of his beard.

"But I want to know!" Summersong snapped, slamming her hands down onto the top of the table.

"_That_, is why you fail." Dumbledore stole a famous line and retreated back into his self-contrived senility as he backed out the door.

Fuming, Summersong kicked a chair over. She then raised her fists to the ceiling.

"Damn youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"


	26. Snape's Coma

**Chapter Twenty-three: Snape's Coma**

Snape, naked, was floating in an almost embryonic state within a warm, comforting fluid.

"This is kind of nice." He muttered, hearing a soft beating rhythm. "I must have returned to the womb. Maybe I will be reborn as a beautiful butterfly."

**IT IS THE WOMB**. The walls shook. **THE WOMB OF **_**EVIL**_**!**

"What do you mean? Are you saying that _I_ am evil?" Snape was relatively ambivalent.

**YES. THE LIFE YOU LIVE IS BEREFT OF HUMAN INTERACTION AND LOVE. YOU CLOSED YOUR HEART AFTER THE ONE YOU LOVED FORSOOK YOU AND NOW YOU LIVE AS A WRAITH. YOUR SHRIVELLED NAKEDNESS IS THE REFLECTION OF YOUR TWISTED SOUL**.

"Uh…okay…I guess. What do you expect me to do about it now?" Snape tried to roll over and only managed to get trapped in his umbilical chord.

**THE UMBILICAL CHORD SYMBOLIZES HOW YOU HAVE BECOME TRAPPED BY YOUR OWN FEARS AND SELF-DOUBT.**

"I really don't think that-"

**FURTHERMORE, YOUR FOETAL STATE REPRESENTS YOUR INNER OEDIPAL COMPLEX. DESPITE HER HORSE HEAD, YOUR MOM HAD A TOTALLY HOT BODY**.

"I hardly find that appropriate. And were it not for the fact you regurgitated a junior college level English textbook, I might be moved by your petty words." Snape sneered, having gone to senior college.

**VERY WELL. THEN I WILL SHOW YOU THE LIFE YOU COULD HAVE HAD. PERHAPS THIS LOVE LOST WILL WAKE YOU FROM YOUR HATEFUL REVERIE AND INSPIRE YOU TO FIND HUMAN WARMTH ONCE AGAIN OTHER THAN YOUR MOTHER'S WOMB BECAUSE THAT'S KIND OF GROSS.**

"Ahhh!" Snape was suddenly flushed from his sanctuary and came to himself.

* * *

He was floating in the air watching another, manlier, less-greasy version of himself walking into a hospital room.

"Well, that must be me…" He felt himself being towed behind his alter ego like a hideous, naked, invisible balloon.

"My love, I came as soon as I heard." Snape2 knelt next to a bed containing a somewhat less drugged looking Trelawney. She was actually somewhat becoming.

"Holy crap!" Snape1 was taken aback at her state of being.

**YOU SEE HOW YOU AFFECT THE LIVES OF OTHERS. HAD YOU NOT BEEN A TOTAL SPAZ, YOU AND THE ONE CALLED TRELAWNEY COULD HAVE HAD RELATIVELY NORMAL, FUNCTIONAL LIVES TOGETHER.**

"Oh, Severus. The doctor says it's my heart – it's too old. If only I had invented that hypobaric chamber I was designing before I fell in love with you." Trelawney swooned, unable to lift herself from her pillow.

"Oh, Sybill." Snape2 choked back a sob and embraced his love.

"I think the fact that she's dying now because of me destroys your argument." Snape1 grinned.

**WOULD YOU CALL WHAT SHE HAS NOW A LIFE?**

Snape1's face fell.

"Are you sure? How can this be? Why can't magic solve our problem?" Snape2 looked desperately into his wife's eyes, as if searching for the answer.

"There are some things magic can't cure. And those things are all of the cancers. I have old heart cancer. It could stop beating at any moment." Trelawney looked sad and serene, more concerned about her beloved Severus2 than her own impending demise.

"Don't be sad, my love. The short years I had with you are worth more than the lifetime of alcoholism you saved me from." She smiled lovingly.

"How could I ignore the suffering of an angel?" Severus2 began to cry, embracing her ever closer.

"Oh, barf! This sucks!" Severus1 made dry heaving noises.

**SHUT UP! THIS IS TOTALLY BEAUTIFUL!**

"Can we skip to something else?" Severus1 pleaded.

**VERY WELL. THIS IS FIVE MINUTES LATER.**

"I brought our darling Selma." Snape2 briefly left the room to bring their daughter in.

Selma, against the odds, was a beautiful child. She had long, voluminous black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Mommy!" Selma ran into the room, her hair flowing behind her in flowing rivers, and embraced her mother.

"How did I father something that beautiful?" Snape1 was mesmerized by his beautiful potential daughter.

**I DUNNO. SOMETIMES GENETICS SKIP A GENERATION.**

"More like five." Snape1 muttered.

"Hello, darling." Trelawney weakly hugged her daughter.

"Today I drew a picture of a frog that eats a worm! And then Daddy took me to the zoo because I said I like griffins and so we saw the griffins and he bought me a candy and I ate it! I love the zoo and I love Daddy and Mommy! Can we all go the zoo together next time? When Mommy gets better?" Selma looked up at both of her parents with eyes so pure and innocent that it broke their hearts to think about how the world would stomp all over her feelings.

"Darling, Mommy has something very important to tell you." Trelawney looked mournfully at her beautiful child.

"What is it, Mommy? Is it a secret? I like playing secrets!" She smiled enchantingly.

"I'm starting to dislike this child despite her lack of ugliness." Snape1 griped. "I mean, look how stupid she is!"

**SHE WILL GO TO WIZARD YALE. THERE SHE WILL JOIN THE QUIDDITCH TEAM AND BEAT HARRY POTTER. OR AT LEAST, SHE WOULD HAVE…**

"Mommy isn't going to get better." Trelawney laid a hand softly on her child's head, stroking her hair gently. "Mommy's going to go away."

"Where?" Selma looked concerned.

"To Magic Heaven! It's much better than Muggle Heaven." Trelawney attempted to be enthusiastic.

"Can I come?" Selma leaned forward in excitement.

"No, sweetie." Trelawney said sadly. "Not right now. Maybe later, after a long time."

Snape2 had to temporarily leave the room at the thought of his child dying too in order to compose himself. Snape1, much to his relief/irritation was forced to follow as Trelawney had to field the question,

"Will you come and visit?"

"I can't do this." Snape2 leaned against a wall, putting his hand over his eyes.

"See? Look how miserable I am! This is what happens when you fall in love and have human relationships." Snape1 pointed at Snape2.

A hand fell onto Snape2's shoulder and he jumped, whirling around.

"Whoa, easy bro." Severedhead, sporting an attractive visage and a luscious moustache, took a step back.

"Sorry, my brother. I'm having a bit of a tough time right now." Snape2 looked grief-struck. "I can't bear to show my sadness to either of them!"

"What the crap is he doing here?" Snape1 looked down at his brother.

**YOU RECONCILED YOUR DIFFERENCES, WENT INTO BUSINESS TOGETHER, POOLED THE MONEY, AND BOUGHT NICE HEADS. YOU PERFORM MAGICAL BOTOX.**

Snape1 shuddered.

"You have to rely on your family. You can't shut them out. That's what you taught me, brother, and that's what I'm teaching you now! Go in there, be honest with them, and support each other. I'll stay out here for moral support." Severedhead clapped his brother firmly on the shoulder.

"You are truly my brother, brother." Snape2's eyes were overflowing with tears.

The two embraced and then Snape2 dashed into the room.

"I'm sad that you're dying!" Snape2 sobbed into Trelawney's shoulder.

"Oh, Severus, I'm so happy that you finally opened up to me." She smiled faintly. "It was my dying wish."

"Daddy!" Selma cried in alarm.

Severus2 looked up quickly and through tear-filled eyes managed to make out the looming form of Tom Riddle shuffling into their room.

"Who are you?" Snape2 demanded.

"Why the hell is Voldemort here?" Snape1 was having a hard time following what was going on.

"I have been in a coma next door for ten years! Previously, I was a disgruntled student intent on evil world domination through terror. However, a giant spider bit me and thus I slumbered until hearing your story awoke me. Now, I am so moved that I truly understand the meaning of love. My life has none and so I have no life. I offer to you my youthful, non-cancer heart so that your semi-beautiful wife may live and your family may stay whole!" Tom announced.

"Oh, my God!" Trelawney breathed.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you…" Severus2 sobbed, collapsing with emotion into a writhing pile of tears on the floor.

"This is excruciating. You can't honestly expect me to believe that this is a superior way of life. And furthermore, how did my marriage to Sybill prevent the Dark Lord from assuming power?" Snape1 almost didn't feel like engaging with this travesty.

**THE WORLD WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS.**

"Of course it does." Snape1 muttered bitterly.

"I'm a surgeon and I was just standing outside listening and I heard everything! I can operate right now!" A surgeon burst into the room.

"Hooray!" Everyone cheered, even Tom who was about to die.

"This is really stupid. Why are you even putting me through this? Show yourself!" Snape1 demanded.

He abruptly returned to being Snape as the world around him vanished and he found himself, still naked, in his womb-like environment. A hideous, misshapen, papier-mache, horse thing materialized in front of him.

"What the hell are you?" Snape demanded.

**I AM YOUR SPIRITUAL GUIDE HORSE. I WAS CREATED BY THE ONE KNOWN AS CADOGAN. I HAVE COME HERE TO HELP YOU HEAL YOUR BATTERED SOUL. FOR, EVEN IF YOU DIE, IF YOU HAVE FOUND WHOLENESS YOU WILL NOT GO TO HELL.**

"Hell?"

**YES, MY FRIEND. YOU HAVE MANY, MANY KALPAS.**

"Wait, Cadogan? The painting?"

**MUCH HAS HAPPENED IN YOUR ABSENCE.**

"Now I'm not sure if I want to go back…" Snape knew whatever awaited him would probably not be very pleasant.

**YOUR LIFE IS FULL OF PAIN. MY FUNCTION IS TO HELP YOU FIND CLOSURE AND ENLIGHTENMENT. I MUST LEAD YOU TO SALVATION. LET US GO BACK TO YOUR CHILDHOOD AND-**

"NO F***ING WAY!" Snape bellowed, looping his umbilical chord around the guidehorse and pulling sharply.

The guidehorse was crushed. A tear in its side split open and mountains of candy poured out.

**SO YOU HAVE CHOSEN THE SHORT-TERM REWARDS OF EVIL.**

The horse vanished, leaving behind delicious candy.

"Much better." Snape muttered in satisfaction, feasting on the sweets.

And he began eating the eternally-giant piles of candy, certain that, should he finish, he would be freed from this hell-hole of a coma.

**End of aside**

* * *

In a bizarre twist of fate, after Malfoy abandoned his lackeys he himself was abandoned. Since no one but Neville was desperate enough to be in a group to put up with sir Cadogan, Malfoy was then drafted into Harry's group by a now-loathed Mr. Flansberg.

"I am the lonely Prince Arthur." Neville whined, their skit beginning. "My older brother throws bricks at me and my father wishes that I had been a girl so that he'd be less ashamed of me. But I have a dream of a great kingdom of justice and truth. Oh, if only I were better and capable of forging such a kingdom."

"Alas! I am Merlin and I have a heavy burden on my heart." Harry walked into centre stage where Neville was standing.

"What is the trouble, my good sir?" Neville squeaked.

"Why, I am looking for a young, unfortunate boy to become my ward so that I may teach him the ways of justice, truth and kingdom building. But all I see around me are strapping, capable young men not in need of my assistance. I say, young lady, could you direct me to a more unsatisfactory young man?"

"I am such a man!" Neville announced bravely.

"My word, so you are! I thought you were just a homely young sparrow." Harry laughed at his pre-scripted mistake.

"Can you make me more betterer? My older brother and father make me ever so sad with their buxom masculinity. Please, Merlin. Teach me the ways of life." Neville begged.

"As I am such a great and powerful wizard, this will be an easy task. First, drink this potion! 'Twill imbue you with awe-inspiring greatness." Harry held out an empty goblet.

"And so I shall!" Neville pretended to take a drink.

Malfoy stomped into centre stage and kicked Neville out of the way.

"Why Merling. I feel like a completely different and more awesome person." Malfoy said, as though being prompted. "What do you call this draught of the awesome?"

"That's just it, my boy! It is called the Awesome Potion. Now that that's over with, we can get started on forging a kingdom."

"What ho! I am lord Lancelot!" Sir Cadogan pranced into view. "I am looking for a man among men for me to pledge my allegiance to as Britain's new king."

"Yes. You _should_ be king. And it was my idea." Harry chuckled.

"By the code! Your obvious greatness has impressed me, so I will serve you until my dying breath or I steal your woman." Sir Cadogan bowed.

"Not me, him!" Harry whispered fiercely, pointing to Malfoy.

"You git! We went over this five times in rehearsal." Malfoy growled.

"It's a horrible scandal! The young prince should have been Arthur, not a contemptible sludge weasel like you! Have at ye!" He kicked Malfoy over. "Ahhhhhhhh!" He screamed, raising his cutlass and running out the door.

"…Well. The end." Neville quickly pushed everyone offstage.

"Yes…very nice. E for effort. It's not for the marks, after all, it's for what you learned." Mr. Flansberg offered dryly, giving them all a D.

"Yes…well, Miss Grainger, you seem to know things. Your group can go next to restore my faith in humanity." Mr. Flansberg bared his soul, praying for salvation.

"I would just like to protest," Hermione stood in centre stage, "that I am not doing this for you, Mr. Flansberg. I only participate in this farce of a lesson for the grades of my dearest Ronnykins."

"And I'd just like to say that I've always loved you, Dean. I was just too scared to say it out loud!" Seamus added from offstage left.

"Oh, Seamus! I love you too!" Dean shouted back from offstage right.

There was a silence. No one could tell if it was a joke or not. Neville coughed.

"Er….right." She turned to her audience. "I am the fair and completely independent and self-sufficient young Princess Aurora. I seek a mutual partnership with a young prince of merit in the archaic bonds of matrimony."

"Cluck! Cluck! Cluck! I, the evil chicken fairy, shall not hear of such a thing! Little do you know, princess, that I have slipped you a potion to trigger a spell I cast on you!" Seamus cried.

"But when? I've never met you before."

"Your parents didn't invite me to your first birthday party. That was like a social blacklist! No one would invite me to their parties after that. So I cursed you."

"Surely as two modern, sensible women we could work out our differences by-"

"Too late! You die!" Seamus interrupted, stabbing her with a spinning wheel.

"Oh, woe is me! I am slain." Hermione cried.

"Woe indeed, princess, for your fate is worse than death. You shall sleep forever unless someone is stupid enough to kiss your clammy corpse. Ha ha ha ha haaaaa!" Seamus walked offstage, laughing wickedly.

"Oh, poor princess!" Dean leapt onstage. "I, your guardian sprite, will find such a stupid man prince to kiss you and break the spell. See you soon!"

Ron shuffled onstage, looking around in bewilderment.

"I am the Prince Princelyton, in search of a fair maid with a good mind and independent spirit to join with me in the archaic bonds of holy matrimony." He announced.

"If that's not stupid, I don't know what is!" Dean quickly approached Ron. "Oh, fair prince, I know of just such a maid. She lies in yonder castle under a curse made by-"

"Wait! Let me guess. Tell me what made the curse and I shall guess what it is." Ron held up a hand.

"It is a curse induced by a potion made of these ingredients: liverwort, snail horn, moon dust, periwinkle and poppyseeds." Dean rattled off a list. "It is triggered by textiles and expires after sixteen years."

"Goodness! You can't mean the sleeping draught! The one that must be boiled in a solid copper cauldron for sixteen hours on the sixteenth day of the tenth and sixth months!" Ron exclaimed.

"Indeed, good sir. Quickly, go to the castle and awaken her with your first kiss. It can only be you!"

"Right!" Ron dashed towards Hermione. "Away we go!"

He kissed her on the lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him.

"What is the name of my savior?"

"I am Love Princelyton. _Prince_ Love Princelyton." Ron smiled. "I enjoy long walks on the beach and independent-minded women. My dream is to one day become the best stay at home dad ever!"

"Oh you're perfect! Truly I have been saved by Love's first kiss!" Hermione shouted in joy.

The two embraced.

"The end!" Dean and Seamus cheered.

_Well, they __**did**__ include actual potion ingredients and information, although their acting was sub-par. B+_ Mr. Flansberg scribbled down the grade.

Hermione and Ron pranced back to their potions bench and played footsies with each other. Dean and Seamus ate M&Ms out of each other's potion scales. Harry sighed.

"Everyone has someone but me."

"What about that Reagan? You seemed pretty keen on that one." Neville tried to cheer his friend up.

"No…she asked someone else out." Harry moped.

"Oh. Well, you could ask Bridgit or Cora out. I'd go with Cora, personally. More protection." Neville twitched nervously.

"But she ran off somewhere and has been gone for days. Everyone always leaves me or dies. I haven't even heard from my Godfather in over a month. He was supposed to send me a letter yesterday for international godchild day."

"Now it seems that the plays are over. But believe me, the good news doesn't stop there. Apparently we have a new student transferring in from Themescara. Her name is Mary Sue Evrybadi. Hopefully some of the new person animosity, if not all, will rub off on her. Then I'll be safe." He sighed.

A girl walked into the room and everyone gasped. Not just because she was a girl, but because she was a _pretty_ girl. She had mysterious eyes that seemed to change colour in the light, but favored a doe brown, natural platinum blond hair and small rainbow wings emerging from each shoulder blade.

"Hello everyone." Her melodious voice wafted over and entrapped them all. "I am Mary. Sue. I am from the hidden island of Themescara. I am daughter of Pegasus Ur, high preist of the temple of Ponyland. Since I am a high priestess, I can take on a humanoid form instead of my natural Pegasus body. I have come to Hogwarts to study the ways of humans so that I can save my island from certain damnation. President Ahab has been leading pony congress in a debate over what to do about the Glass Princess Porcina. She has been using Pegasus manes to make her new magical cloak. Once she has made it, she will regain her powers and use them to turn all of Themescara into glass. Pony congress has been going on for three consecutive weeks and can't come up with a solution. It's a veritable filibuster. Everyone except for Spyglass thinks we should stop her. Spyglass thinks a more important issue is the carrot shortage at Sunrise Creek. We simply don't know what to do!" She said, her voice filled with a sorrow of indeterminate depths.

"Oh no, that's awful." Harry breathed.

"That's stupid. Why don't you just kill Spyglass? He sounds like a moron. Then the rest of you can get back to saving your island." Mr. Flansberg muttered.

Mary Sue's eyes lit up, shining bright blue.

"Oh, you have saved Themescara and the holy temple of Pony Land!" She clapped her hands together, tears streaming from her eyes. "I shall relay a message to my father, Ur, and then I can truly enjoy my time here with the students." She looked particularly and intently at Harry, "_really_ enjoy."

"Blimey." Harry whispered, barely audible.

"Uh…okay. Just take a seat anywhere you want." Mr. Flansberg offered.

She strode purposefully up to Harry and sat in his lap.

"Is this seat taken?" She asked softly.

"No." Harry's glasses fogged up.

"I hate my life." Mr. Flansberg muttered.

"Mr. Flansberg!" Replacement Goyle jumped up. "I have a problem too! I had someone that I followed no matter what, and now they have abandoned me. What should I do with my life?"

"Uhhh…Any other questions? No? Uh. I guess…you could always just get a hobby or make new friends. You know…try new things and see what you're interested in? Yes?" Mr. Flansberg, taken aback, offered some paltry, cliché advice.

"You're right! The world is mine! _Carpe diem_! Thanks Mr. Flansberg! I'm going to recommend you as a problem solver to everyone I see today!" He ran out the door.

"Class is dismissed." Mr. Flasberg said stiffly. "I have to go find somewhere to hide."

"Well, Harry, do you think you could show me around this big school? My island is oh so small and I could get very lost here." She batted her long eyelashes.

"Absolutely! There's nothing I don't know about the school!" Harry blurted out. "We can start by- hey, how did you know my name?"

She looked wistfully off into the distance.

"I don't know. It must be destiny."

"Sure. Destiny. I think I like destiny." Harry smiled, leading her from the potions dungeon by the hand.

* * *

Sammy stood outside dressed in a woman's tuxedo with a cape, pacing back and forth waiting for Reagan by the front doors. The doors swung open and Reagan stepped daintily past the threshold, grasping the hem of his purple garb swishing across the flagstones.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, tee hee!" He planted a light peck on Sammy's cheek.

"Ah…Here, this is for you." Sammy held out a potted plant, hiding the slight flush in her cheeks. "I left the orchids in the pot because I know how much you like things when they're alive."

"Oh! Phaeleonopsis! My favorite!" Reagan breathed, accepting the gift.

"Shall we?" She offered her arm.

He smiled in reply and took it. They promendaded down a path to a large glass carriage. Reagan's smile widened. Everything was so perfect, like it was a dream.

"Oh my! It's beautiful!"

The carriage was shaped like a Coca-Cola bottle and was pulled by four snow-white polar bears.

"The consumerism and polar bears remind me so much of home." He teared up slightly. "How much did this cost, Sammy?"

"Not too much, my dear." Sammy smiled nervously.

In truth…Coca-Cola had paid _her_. She felt like such a corporate whore, but it was all for her beloved.

"We'd better get going before the opera starts." Sammy suggested, offering her arm again to help Reagan into the carriage. Not that she thought he couldn't get in on his own, but from wearing skirts, she knew how hard it hard it was to get around in long clothing, such as Reagan's robe.

The polar bears lumbered gracefully down the lane, their breath escaping in clouds in the nippy night air.

"Sammy, I can tell how much you've done to make sure this evening is very special for us both, and I wanted to thank you for that." He gave her hand a squeeze.

"We should have done this a long time ago." She mused.

"What's important is that we finally have." He smiled.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" They heard the carriage driver scream.

Sammy and Reagan were snapped out of their romantic reverie and looked up through the glass to find that the driver was no longer there.

"Where did he go?" Sammy breathed.

FWUMP!

"GRAAAAAAAAAAGH!" A velociraptor smashed its face against the glass, its ugly yellow eye narrowing in to focus on the two. "HUNGRY!" It started to butt its head against the carriage, causing a myriad of spider-like cracks to appear and grow in the glass.

"Quick, out the other side!" Reagan pulled his new girlfriend out of the carriage as the raptor smashed through the transparent barrier. Frustrated at being deprived of its prey, it continued to scream obscenities.

"Why are raptors talking?" Reagan voiced the strong question on his mind.

"How about, why are there raptors?" Sammy pointed out dryly.

"You kids run back to the castle! I'll hold them off!" The carriage driver, not yet dead, fought to stave off the raptors with his whip, which doubled as a wand.

"_Lumos_!"

FWA-CHIH!

"_Lumos!_"

FWA-CHIH!

"_Lumos_!"

FWA-CHIH!

"Uhhh…is that the only spell you know? Because it's kind of just making them angry." Sammy pointed out.

"Well, there's a reason that my profession is bottle-shaped chariot-driving!" The driver retorted.

While the two were occupied, a third velociraptor started sneaking up behind the driver to take him out.

"We're going to need a little more firepower! _Infernace_!" Reagan continued his proud tradition of terrible jokes.

Everyone smelled burning chicken.

"DEAD!" One of the raptors noted.

The remaining raptors threw back their heads and howled,

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Quick! While they're blinded by grief we must attack!" Sammy shouted, bringing herself to the ready.

"I'll go for help!" The carriage driver shouted, running away.

"You yellow bastard!" Reagan shouted after him, irked at the burnination of their perfect evening.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The raptors shouted, getting ready for a second attack.

Reagan put his plant next to the carriage and prepared for battle.

"_Immobulus_!" Sammy shouted, freezing the raptor in its tracks.

"GHHHHHHHH." It hissed through frozen teeth.

"HUNGRYYYYYYY!" The other raptor shouted, stomping on Reagan's plant.

There was a collective gasp as everyone looked to see if the plant was okay. As luck would have it, the orchids stuck out from in between the raptor's toes unharmed. Unfortunately, Orchids are a very fragile plants and the extreme shock caused it to wither and die on the spot, turning an ugly shade of brown.

"You killed it!" Reagan hissed, his face suddenly turning dark with anger.

Sammy shuddered. She'd never seen him like this.

"HUNGRY!" The raptor charged at him.

"_Explodeus_!" Reagan screamed, his face contorted in rage.

A ball of fire erupted, consuming both raptors in an explosion that reduced them into piles of ash. His anger still not satiated, Reagan continued on his rampage.

"Reagan smash!" He punched another hole in the glass carriage.

"Ragh!" He bellowed, throwing one of the polar bears against the tree.

"Reagan, calm down! The raptors are gone." Sammy grabbed him by the shoulders to try and restrain him.

As if he had no clue who she was (or for some reason suddenly hated her) Reagan grabbed her forearms, spun her around in a half circle and threw her towards a tree. Before she smashed into it, though, she suddenly stopped as if seized mid-air by some invisible force.

"What in the name of Nostradamus' nose hairs is going on here?" Dumbledore demanded, walking boldly into the clearing trailed by the carriage driver.

"He's not himself, sir. I don't know what happened." Sammy explained as she was placed softly on the ground.

"Oh, abusive relationships are so sad. And statistically speaking, you'll always go back to the same partner." Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh.

"No, sir, something's wrong! He tried to hurt the polar bear. He _loves_ polar bears!"

"Sudden, inexplicable anger? Was there any noticeable trigger?" Dumbledore asked as calmly as he staved off Reagan's sudden aggressive onslaught towards him.

"Well, he was okay kind of when our date was ruined by being attacked by velociraptors with a limited vocabulary, but he really went nuts when it killed his plant." Sammy tried to explain without sounding stupid.

"He appears to be consumed by an irrational rage. He shall have to be restrained so that he doesn't pose a risk to himself or others." He reasoned aloud. "The tower dungeon should suffice."

With a wave of his wand, he magically apparated Reagan into said tower dungeon.

"I thought the grounds of Hogwarts were imbued with magic to prevent teleportation." Sammy objected.

"Oh yeah. That's for other people, though. Not me." Dumbledore calmly explained.

"What room in the tower did you send him to?" Sammy, giving in to that explanation in irritation, asked the most important question.

"To the room where I kept my secret cat." Dumbledore explained.

"I'm sorry…what?" Sammy gave him a strange look.

"Well, ever since I killed my goldfish, Professor McGonagall hasn't let me have a pet that could die permanently." He sighed.

"Well, what happened to your secret cat?" Sammy gave in and asked the question that Dumbledore's sparkling eyes begged and pleaded her to ask.

"His name was Tuck Everlasting." He sighed dreamily. "And I used to feed him gumdrop stew, but he would never eat my cooking. Well, after months of no food, I'll bet he's ready and willing for food now! Har har har!" He laughed, brushing a merry tear from his eye. "Cats. You gotta be firm."

"As long as you feed Reagan –real food- I'm good." Sammy admitted. "What do you think happened? Is he under a curse? And why were we attacked by raptors?"

"Maybe someone just really doesn't want you to have a good date. Har har har!" Dumbledore slapped his knee.

"Something just doesn't feel right here…" She had a sudden premonition. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"I dunno. In the school, I guess. Shouldn't you be more worried about your boyfriend?"

"That's what they want." Sammy said breathlessly as she sprinted back towards the school.

"Hey wait! I thought maybe you'd want to smoke some candy with me!" Dumbledore shouted after her.

"I'm game if you are." The driver offered.

"Dude…you only know _lumos_. Like I'd smoke _anything_ with you! Now go collect your polar bears and get off of my school!" Dumbledore stomped off to alert Madame Pomfrey of Reagan's condition and location.

* * *

"What's this?" Mary Sue asked, sparkling eyes wide and Double D chest heaving in excitement.

"That, is what we call a chair. You sit on it." Harry explained.

"Oh! We don't have those in Themescara. You see, a Pegasus in her natural form does not need to sit." She explained.

"That's _so_ interesting." Harry put his arm around her shoulder. "And, as both a woman and a person, I respect your views and what you have to say."

"I'm so glad that I met someone as nice, kind and handsome as you on my first day." She blushed.

"Tee hee." Harry nervously rubbed the back of his head.

"Say…could you show me to that dark, secluded hallway over there?" Mary Sue pointed coyly down a dark and secluded hallway.

"It must be destiny." Harry muttered, glasses fogging up again.

"We don't have anything dark and secluded in Themescara. Everything is full of sunrays or moonbeams and is public domain. In fact, the whole island is just one open space. Although, it does make sex quite troublesome."

"Well, right this way, my lady." He gestured ahead of himself, overjoyed to be with an experienced woman.

"Umm…if it's alright, could you go first? As interested as I am, it's still a little scary." Her gaze fluttered to the ground, shyly embarrassed at her childish fears.

"No problem. There's nothing to be afraid of, just follow me." Harry strode forth boldly, Mary Sue slightly cowering behind him and peered about in interest.

"Just around this corner is a very nice – Ahhhhhhh!"

An unknown force closed around his ankle and pulled straight up, causing him to dangle up-side-down, suspended from the ceiling. He reached for his wand only to find that it had fallen out of his pocket and clattered to the floor below.

"Mary Sue, could you please hand me my wand. There might be danger here." Harry urgently requested of her.

Mary Sue stooped over and picked up the wand, but then hesitated for a moment, looking pensive in her own stunning way.

"Harry…I have a confession to make." She began softly. "I'm not really a high priestess Pegasus in the form of a human from Themescara."

"Are you from Prague? Because that's okay…I don't feel the same way as everyone else." Harry offered, swinging back and forth.

"Alas, no. I am really a golem sent here to lead you into this trap." Her face went blank and her voice lost all of its emotion and allure as she revealed her secret. Then, her boobs popped off and her hair fell out.

"It's okay that you're a golem. I'll still love you." Harry said in a pleading voice.

There was no response from the now blank eyes of Mary Sue. Instead, a hideous whisper issued from the dark.

"It's no use, Mr. Potter. A golem has no feelings or free will unless its master tells it to. In other words…" the figure stepped into the dim light, "unless _I_ tell her to."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"_You_!" He man-gasped.


	27. Canada's food guide would NOT Recomend

**Chapter Twenty-four: Canada Food Guide Would NOT Recommend**

"Good afternoon, ladies. Table for two?" The snappily dressed garcon crooned.

"Yes, my dear Jeeves. Away." Cora waved her hand dismissively.

"My, my, madame certainly seems to have the air of regal breeding." Jiles muttered between clenched teeth.

"No, she just talks down to everyone." Bridgit laughed.

"Silence, man-servant!" Cora snapped at her friend.

"I'm not a man." Bridgit sniffed.

"One moment please." Cora whirled around and whispered fiercely to Bridgit, "We're supposed to be posing as Death Eaters, remember? If we're not arrogant jerks, they'll suspect something is wrong. Remember: for all intents and purposes, assume this guy is non-magical and treat him like dirt."

"Yes, I agree." Bridgit announced loudly, looking at Jiles as if they'd been talking about him.

The two burst out laughing and Jiles felt a migraine starting.

"Here's your table, ladies. I shall away and fetch you some menus."

"See that you do." Cora said coldly.

"And, if possible, have the menus return without you." Bridgit added.

Jiles walked off in a snit to fetch the menus.

"Alright…so far so good." Cora sighed in relief.

"Right. Now all we have to do is order the stuff no one would want." Bridgit remembered aloud.

"And from what I heard it should be obvious." Cora sighed. "This is going to be annoying."

"Good afternoon, ladies. Here are you menus." A suave, condescending and evil platinum-haired man sauntered up to the table. "May I recommend that you hurry up and order and get out of here as soon as possible." He smiled coldly.

"Very well." Cora met his coldness with her own chilly grin. "Leave the menus here and return in five minutes exactly. We shall order then."

He gave a curt, superficial bow.

"As you wish." He spun on his heel and clicked off.

"He looked kind of familiar. Have we met him somewhere before?" Bridgit wondered aloud.

"Who cares?" Cora started to read the menu.

In fact, their server should have seemed familiar. Luckily for Bridgit and Cora, he hadn't recognized them either. Lucius Malfoy clenched his fist in anger, his refined features melting into a cheesy pot of hatred. Since the revival of Lord Voldemort, his master had felt the need to improve both himself and his cult-ish organization. This, however, required substantial monetary funds. Since the Dark Lord's bank account had been frozen, he demanded a hefty sum from each of his servants in order to revamp the Death Eaters. Since Lucius had spent a fair bit of money on his Faberge Egg collection, the additional drain of the Army of Darkness had resulted in him seeking a part time waiting job to make ends meet. He never spoke of this to Draco. The knowledge of his father's service to the lowly masses would shatter the icy fear he had instilled in his offspring. That would not do, as he had just gotten Draco to the point where he no longer was allowed to make eye contact. He gave a thin smile. He may not have had much power at this moment, but his children could always cheer him up.

"Okay, so our choices: For entrees are steak and kidney pie, or rancid sheep face. For appetizers: blood pudding or kitten and puppy blood soup. For drinks: 1965 Merlot or cow mucous. And for desert: Snail Surprise or ground-up newt gonads parfait. So now, my question is: which do we not want to eat?" Bridgit was starting to get edgy.

"My tastes are impeccable. Those losers at the school always eat steak and kidney pie, so obviously we need to order the rancid sheep face." Cora smugly deduced. "I'm not sure about the drinks, though."

"Well, _obviously_ we'd want the Merlot over the cow mucous." Bridgit pointed out in revulsion.

"Are you joking? 1965 was a _terrible_ year!"

"Is there really any difference between the blood pudding and the kitten and puppy blood soup?" Bridgit asked.

"Well, depends on what kind of blood is in the pudding. If it's human blood or unicorn blood, then we'd want the kitten and puppy blood. But if it's cow or pig blood, those aren't cute so no one cares if they died."

"Okay. So all that's left to decide is desert. I'm not terribly sure, but I think we should order the newt gonad parfait."

"Agreed." Cora nodded.

Less than thirty seconds later, Lucius Malfoy glided up to their table again.

"And what shall madame and madame be having this evening?" He took out his waiter pad and pencil.

"Before we order, what kind of blood is in the blood pudding?" Cora asked snottily.

"Cow blood. Shouldn't that be obvious?" Lucius sneered at her.

"If I were in the service industry, I would mind my tongue around people of higher calling." Bridgit scathingly warned him.

"I apologize." He smiled in anger and gave a little bow.

"Right. We shall have the cow mucous, kitten and puppy blood soup, rancid sheep face and the ground up newt gonad parfait for desert." Cora haughtily ordered.  
"It's parfat."

"I'm sorry?"

"Parfat. The desert is newt gonad parfat." Lucius pointed out.

"Isn't it pronounced parfait?" Bridgit asked.

"Yes, _parfait_ is pronounced parfait. But this is parfat. And it's exactly what it sounds like." Lucius sneered down his nose at them.

"Wonderful. Exactly what we want. Be gone, foul kitchen servant." Cora threw her menu at his head.

"It has been a pleasure serving you this evening." Lucius hissed, snatching Bridgit's menu from her hands and stalking off.

"I don't want to eat that stuff." Bridgit whined softly.

"Don't worry, it's just enchanted to look gross. It's really the same thing as the other stuff." Cora reassured her friend.

"I know that." She was not looking forward to any of it.

* * *

Hermione and Ron sat in the library. Hermione was pouring through books while Ron pretended to read an upside down comic book. Finally, growing impatient, he dropped it on the tabletop and sighed.

"Look, I still don't see why you're doing so much research. Hasn't the mystery been solved and the bad guy apprehended? I mean, we've got Severedhead, so it's over…right?"

"I don't think so, Ronnykins. This doesn't feel right. It's been almost too easy…too…short. We're a little more than halfway through the year. Usually things get solved maybe a week before the end of school. I mean, it's too early and the entire mystery was far too straightforward. Usually there's a bunch of stuff going on at once, there've not been any secrets about the defense against the dark arts teacher and usually the bad guy is the person we didn't suspect it was." She listed everything off.

"Well…didn't we think the bad guy was Snape?" Ron ventured.

"Oh yeah. Right." She conceded. "But that still means one thing: we have to do industrial research on Professor Summersong. She's hiding something and we're going to find out what it is."

"Oh, Hermione, do we have to break into the ministry again?" Ron sighed.

"Maybe not. We'll see." Her face darkened slightly.

* * *

"Waugh….too much parfat." Bridgit moaned, slowly and agonizingly sliding desert down her throat.

"Those cherries in the parfat tasted weird." Cora complained.

"They were really snails. Don't you remember?" Bridgit felt like she was going to cry.

"I wish I hadn't." Cora turned a little green.

Their facades instantly snapped up again as Lucius returned to their table.

"Shall there be anything else for you this evening?" He asked, with acid pleasantness.

"That will be all." Cora gave a dismissive wave.

"Right, then would you like your bill?"

"No thanks. I left it in my other pants." Bridgit said meaningfully.

Lucius' eyebrows shot up and late understanding dawned in his eyes.

"I see." He was taken aback. "Well, then. Here are your after dinner mints." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two objects that, for all intents and purposes, were indeed mints. He gave that same ridiculous salute Cora had seen at the store. Thankfully, they'd rehearsed it.

Taking the mints, they returned the salute and Lucius, smiling coldly in a slightly more friendly way, walked off.

"Right. Off to find Castle Mount Snake Pit." Cora popped her mint in her mouth.

"I'm never going to the Binary Byte Café again." Bridgit ate her mint quickly to try and soothe her upset stomach.

Taking the smooth elevator down, the two walked out the doors to try to find their goal. It didn't take very long.

"Hey…was that big castle on top of Parliament before we ate at the restaurant?" Bridgit pointed.

"My God! They built it on top of the Parliament building and no one noticed?" Cora asked incredulously.

"Well, I guess that's magic for you. Now how to get in…"

"We could follow these arrows that point the way. Evidently once you can see everything, it becomes all too clear." Cora mused.

"Quickly! To the top of the building!" Bridgit dashed off, Cora closely behind.

* * *

"But…I don't understand. How can it possibly be you?" Harry incredulously demanded of the tiny figure standing beneath him.  
"Quite simple, really." Chewie barked madly, "This is not my true form. I infiltrated the school with the greatest of ease as that stupid elf's Seeing Eye dog and then once I disposed of him, I was able to run free and unguarded around the castle as I saw fit."

"But I thought Severedhead was behind all of the attacks." Harry spluttered.

"That idiot? I helped him get into the school covertly in order to use his imbecilic attempts at siblingicide as a cover for my own, more subtle operations. The only thing that moron actually did by himself was shove his brother in a closet with a violin." Chewie snuffled in an almost cute way. "And then he hid for months in the girl's bathroom while I carried out my plans."

"But why go to so much trouble to sabotage the relations between Canada and Britain by attacking the exchange students? It doesn't make any sense." Harry asked.

"No, it doesn't make any sense; largely because that's not what I was doing. Sure, I wanted them out of the way, but not any more than any other obstacle that stood in my way to get to you, Mr. Potter."

"What?"

"Surely you must have figured it out by now? The purpose of your foreign "friends"? It's not an exchange of good will. That's just a cover story. They're advanced students of a special dark arts combat school sent here to play bodyguard to you and the castle. It was the only way to get them in under the Ministry's nose." Chewie bared his little teeth.

"…What?"

"Agh! No matter. It seems trying to explain this to you is in vain. The important thing is that Snape's poisoning and the recent raptor attack have distracted all of your would-be protectors and left you vulnerable to my attack. I shall now show you, Mr. Potter, my true form! AI HAI HAI HAI HAI HAI HAIIIIIII!" He chillingly laughed in his little dog voice.

"Mary Sue! Help me, please!" Harry shouted at her. "Surely something within you has still retained the humanity you so elegantly reflected."

"Does not compute. Please enter new command code." Mary Sue said mechanically.

"She can't hear you boy," Chewie seethed as his body began to twist and distort as it assumed a new form. "She only lives for orders from me. Without them, she is nothing." Saliva dripped from his jowls as he continued to grow and put on muscle mass.

"What are you-"

"There! Now you see my true form!" Chewie howled in triumph.

He was now a fair-sized English Poodle. A veritable giant compared to his previous form.

"Uhh…okay." Harry found this far from threatening.

"You may not think me a threat, but let's see how blasé you are as I rip your throat out." Chewie growled menacingly. "Har har har ha- Aiiiii!"

Chewie slammed against a nearby wall and slumped to the ground, completely still.

"Usually I don't condone violence against animals, but I guess I can make an exception this time." Sammy gave a cliché entrance line, stepping from the shadows from which she had kicked Chewie.

"Sammy, please help me down. All the blood's rushing to my head." Harry begrudgingly asked his rival.

"No problem."

"Not so fast, meddling philistine!" Chewie growled in his lower poodle voice.

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?" Sammy asked snidely, continuing to lower Harry to the ground.

"I may still be a dog, but I can maul like a wolverine." Chewie snarled, launching himself at Sammy.

"Ahh!" Chewie sunk his teeth into Sammy's calf, giving it a firm shake and causing minor battle damage. "Get off!" Sammy swung her leg and used it to hit Chewie against the wall again and again.

The dog's jaw went slack and its eyes rolled back into its head.

_You may have defeated that form._ A misty, pervasive voice echoed, _but there's more where that came from._ _Now to reveal my __true__ form!_

The still form of the poodle temporarily became an amorphous blob. Mounds of flesh folded in upon themselves and formed into a streamlined, muscular hellhound. Its eyes burned with a fiery rage and its rank, hot breath escaped from between pointed incisors. With a hideously threatening _click-click_ it stepped over the flagstones, saliva dripping to the floor, which it burned on contact.

"Well, crap. _Now_ he's dangerous." Sammy muttered, limping slightly.

Harry stood up, having regained his wand, and glared at the menacing demon.

"You'll pay for what you did to Mary Sue." He declared before all who could hear him.

"Are you stupid? I told you three times: she's a _golem_!" Chewie rolled his eyes.

"Well, I never pay attention in care of magical creatures. I mean, Hagrid gives me an easy A because I visit him and I'm an orphan." Harry shouted defiantly.

"You learn about golems in defense against the dark arts. They're not alive. Even _I_ knew that." Sammy berated him.

"I hate you!" Harry wailed, flailing his arms as he prepared to attack Chewie.

To cover her ally's impulsive advance, Sammy decided it would be prudent to cast a spell.

"_Parmaae_!" Sammy shouted as a shield enveloped Harry.

"I am ironman! Da nu nu nu nu nu nu nu ironman!" Harry sang as he jumped on Chewie's back and wailed on his head with bare fists.

The shield protected Harry from Chewie's protesting fangs and acid. However, Harry's tawdry attacks were far from useful and seemed to be having little more than an annoying affect.

"I'll get you, brat! But, first, strategy dictates- blargh!" Chewie spat acid at Sammy in an attempt to dispel the shield.

Sammy barely got out of the way and part of her sleeve got burned by the harsh, unknown chemicals.

"Ahhh! My coat! You bitch!" Sammy spluttered in utter horror.

"I'm male, thank you very much." Chewie snarled, although slightly saddened that he would never be able to create the miracle of life.

"Harry, get out of the way!" Sammy shouted.

"Can do, buddy!" Harry leapt off of Chewie's back and made a hasty retreat as Sammy broke off the shield.

"_Infernace_!" Sammy shouted, launching fire at Chewie.

"Fool!" Chewie swelled in the heat. "I am a fire elemental. Your feeble attacks only add to my HP!"

"Dammit! That's my standard attack. Now I have to think of a new one!" Sammy sulked.

"I know! It's so easy. Water beats fire." Harry had an epiphany. _"Aspergere monstis_!"

A tiny stream of water shot from the end of Harry's wand, about the intensity of the common water pistol. It hit Chewie in the left eye.

"AGH! My eye! That was my favorite eye – the left one!" Chewie yowled in pain.

"Ha ha ha! You see? Water is the answer!" Harry triumphantly shouted.

"I'll KILL YOU!" Chewie launched himself at Harry.

"_Winguardium leviosa_!" Sammy used the spell that gives us pain to write to launch the heavy, stone Mary Sue at Chewie.

Thanks to her epic-like reflexes, the statue caught Chewie in mid-air, slamming the hellhound to the floor and breaking his back.

"Thanks, I owe you one." Harry was a little more pale.

"Well, all's well that ends well." Sammy sighed, quite relieved that this was over.

_Well done, indeed, master Sammy. However, how do think you shall fare against my __true__ form?_

"What the hell? I thought that was your true form!" Sammy shouted.

_Ah, yes. It was a clever lie. And you fell for it!_

"Dammit!" She cursed again.

The ever-malleable Chewie then transformed into an immense, fire-breathing Cerberus. However, he was too immense for the size of their dark, secluded corridor.

"Curses! You'd think I would have thought that through a little more!" Chewie's immense paws clawed against the stone floor, creating long gashes but doing nothing more.

"He's trapped! Let's get out of here and find help." Sammy suggested.

"You're not going anywhere!" The Cerberus tried feebly to lash out with his claws, but didn't do a very good job.

"Wait! What about Mary Sue?" Harry asked desperately.

"AGH! For the last time: SHE'S. NOT. REAL!" Chewie roared, stomping on Mary Sue, shattering her into fragments and breathing fire at them.

"Look out, Harry!" Sammy shouted, wrestling him to the ground in order to avoid the fire.

"This is beyond pain now." Harry's eyes were dry. "This is about stopping evil before it can continue…in the name of Mary Sue! It's what she would have wanted." He leapt to his feet.

Sensing Harry's strange need for revenge, Sammy followed suit with a newfound respect for Harry's will and a newfound plummet of admiration for his intelligence.

"_Immobulous_!" Sammy shouted.

The confined Chewie became further useless as all movement was ceased. He couldn't even blink.

"Go for it, Harry!" Sammy gave him his Christmas/birthday/wizard's jubilee present. How generous.

"_Glaciesei fodere fusteisis_!" A giant icicle, forming in mid air, plunged itself deep into Chewie's chest, stabbing him through the heart.

His vocal chords completely frozen, Chewie made no sound as the life began to extinguish from his eyes.

"Please, for the love of God, tell me that was his last form." Sammy pleaded in a hoarse voice. "I'm almost fresh out of potions and I don't have any phoenix downs."

_Think again. The Dark Lord allots at least five forms to a transmorphing agent. Only the Dark Lord himself knows what these forms are. So, through me, I shall give to you Lord Voldemort's chosen final terror!_ Chewie's sinister floaty voice sent a chill down both their spines.

The Cerberus collapsed in upon itself and a bright light shone as a dense object began to form in the middle of the floor.

"Is it a bomb?" Sammy asked in alarm.

"Or a basilisk?" Harry braced himself.

Sammy shook her head.

"Hi guys, what are you doing?" Ron came up from behind Sammy and Harry.

The two jumped and whirled around. Sammy cursed at having been distracted and turned back to face…

"Oh, wow! An apple. I'm hungry." Ron smiled widely, walked up to the apple in the middle of the floor and began to eat it.

Sammy and Harry watched the entire time as Ron ate the whole thing, unable to tell him that he had just eaten someone. Ron let out a satisfied sigh, licked his fingers and patted his stomach.

"Man, that was one of the best apples I've ever eaten. It tasted a bit like steak." Ron giggled. "OH MY GOD! What happened to the new girl?" He jumped up, pointing in horror at Mary Sue's remains. "Gosh, Harry, I didn't believe you when you said you weren't any good at snogging. Do you need me to help bury the body? I heard through the grapevine that Hagrid's pumpkin patch is a good place to get rid of unwanted evidence."

"No, Ron. She was killed in the line of duty. Anyone from Ponyland would have done the same. We'll ask Dumbledore what kind of service we should provide." Harry said solemnly.

"Yeah…we should probably tell him about this." Sammy admitted.

While Sammy strode off to find Dumbledore, Harry and Ron stood guard over Mary Sue's shattered remains. Ron, in a rare moment of insight, suddenly looked intently at the remains.

"Hey wait- she's a golem." He pointed.

"SHE WAS THE ONLY WOMAN I EVER LOVED!" Harry broke down and started bawling.

"Hey, I'm sorry, mate." Ron patted him on the back.


	28. Inside Castle Mount Snake Pit

**Chapter Twenty-five: Inside Castle Mount Snake Pit**

"Okay….and there. All done!" Bridgit stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Drawn on Cora's and her own arms, was a poorly done imitation of the dark mark given form by a Sharpie. The two were clearly idiots, as they were doing this inside of Castle Mount Snake Pit's main foyer. Luckily, the Death Eaters were far too self-involved to notice what other people were doing and their antics went unnoticed.

"It's so awesome, it fooled even me!" Cora raised her eyebrows. "None shall ever know of our deception! Ha ha ha ha!"

"Hey, um, do you guys know where the bathroom is?" A nervous-looking newbie shuffled up to them.

The two turned as one to give him a double dose of disdain.

"Excuse me?" Bridgit raised her eyebrow.

"Can't you see we're busy? Beat it!" Cora snapped in an officious tone.

"Agh!" He squealed, and ran away.

Looking nervously around the lobby, the two took note that only three other people were there, none of whom were paying much attention to them. Deciding not to press their luck, the two stomped off to a smaller corridor. Once out of earshot, they formed a conference ring of power.

"Where do we go from here?" Bridgit looked around nervously. "We're so dead if they figure us out."

"Why not head that way?" Cora pointed at a sign directing them to the 'research and development' section of the fortress.

"Maybe that's where they keep cures to things." Bridgit agreed.

Power walking with the air of quiet desperation, the two unblinkingly followed the arrow. Passing down nondescript cobblestone corridors, there wasn't much worth mentioning save the medieval torches in brackets burning coldly. The two finally reached an archway labeled 'Research and Development Lab'.

"Excellent. Now all we need is an excuse to go in." Cora sighed.

Their mark appeared within the next five minutes, carrying a heavy folder full of paper under her arm.

"You there!" Bridgit barked." What are you doing?"

"Delivering files to Dr. Doom, what's it look like?" She drawled in response.

"You're late! We were just dispatched to go and find you." Cora put her hands on her hips.

"Excellent work, then. Standing here doing nothing really seems to have paid off for you." She rolled her eyes.

"I don't like your attitu-" Bridgit stepped on Cora's foot to stop her from incurring this person's wrath.

"Look, the Doctor's a little irritated with you right now and it's all for nothing. Why don't you give us the files, and then we'll hand them to him for you." Bridgit offered sympathetically.

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Well, aren't you little miss helpful. Tell you what: I'm a big girl, so I'll just go in and take what's coming to me. Unless of course, I'm not really late and you made this whole thing up." She smiled coldly.

"Look, I'm sure we can just get past this if we- yoink!" Cora shoved the woman over and stole the files.

"_Glaciesei cubus_!" Bridgit shouted, freezing the woman in a block of ice.

Her look of shock was preserved beautifully as they slid her into a supply closet and locked the door. Smiling to each other, they walked into the lab.

Their smiles quickly faded as they were confronted with the sight of hundreds of people locked in wire cages lining the walls. Some cursed at them, others cried out for salvation. Most just stared into space with a blank look on their faces. Cora swallowed hard and tried to ignore them.

"Dr. Doom! We've got your files!" She shouted.

"Coooooming!" A heavy Australian voice responded.

A large, rotund man bounded into the room, shaking the floor as he went.

"Thank you, girls!" He grabbed the papers from them in his great meaty hand. "Hah…that was quite the jog." He panted. "But hadn't I sent for Dewerta?"

"Ah. She died somehow." Bridgit intoned darkly.

"Oh, you newbies." He tsked. "Well, war's not without sacrifices, eh my little red shirts?" He elbowed Cora, who flew into the wall. Surely he was Hagrid's chubby, evil cousin.

He noticed Bridgit staring at the cages.

"I know. Almost makes you feel sorry for them, yea?" He chuckled.

"Hardly. I was just noting the inefficiency of space. You could easily fit two per cage." Bridgit coldly answered.

"Ah, right you are. But, for this research, we try to make them as comfortable as we can bear for their last moments of life." He sighed nostalgically. "You remind me of the good old days, where everything was simple and you could just do your research on the battlefield instead of in this disgusting, contrived lab setup." He snorted. "You think Bellatrix learned the unforgivable curse in a lab? No! In the real world on a free muggle. It's better that way: more sudden, more fight and kick in them. Not these." He kicked at the cages, spitting in contempt. "Ah well. My only consolation is that they're finally letting me pursue curse development. You wouldn't believe what they had me working on before!" He laughed.

"What? Cures for poison?" Cora pretended to laugh out loud.

"Hardly! De-lousing shampoos. This is far more satisfying. I mean, the unforgivable curse is deadly and all, but painless and with its Achilles heel of love. The next one won't be so flawed." He also intoned darkly.

"Keep up the good work." Bridgit smiled. "You do us proud against these disgusting things."

"Yeah." Cora chorused, not as enthusiastically.

"Yes, yes." He waved his hands dismissively. "Back to your duties and try not to die too quickly."

"We won't." Cora hastily made for the door.

"Oh, and one more thing." He called after them. "Be careful not to cross the Dark Lord. Our army may be short in numbers, but that won't stop you from ending up inside these cages if you make him angry. And as far as I'm concerned, a traitor's just as bad as a muggle." He spat after them as they scurried off.

"Well, that was truly horrifying." Cora muttered once they were out of earshot. "What say we come back here on our way out and do some liberating…and some exploding of certain people?"

"No."

"Well, okay. Just Dr. Doom, then." Cora compromised.

"No, I mean we're not coming back this way." Bridgit completed her thought. "We don't have time and it will attract unwanted attention to ourselves."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you see them? They were caged like animals. If we leave them here, they're going to die!" Cora hissed under her breath. "How can you leave them like that?"

"It's their bad luck. We didn't come here to save anyone and if we tried we'd fail our mission. Besides, we can't gather any intelligence on what they're up to if we're dead. It's a pointless risk. It's not like they'd be able to escape anyway."

"It's better to die in defiance than to live like an animal." Cora muttered darkly. "We're not even here to gather intelligence anyway! And as for our mission, I know Snape would do the same."

"No he wouldn't. Besides, if we don't come back with any useful intelligence, then far more people will die than the handful in those cages." Bridgit warned. "The greater good is in the long run."

Cora took a deep breath and closed her eyes to calm down a little.

"Okay. I see where you're coming from. However, do you feel nothing for those people?" She asked.

Bridgit sighed.

"I'm trying not to think about it right now. I'll deal with what we did or didn't do later."

"Alright then." Cora said from between clenched teeth. "Onwards to hell and back for King and Country, then."

"I thought we had a queen." Bridgit gave a thin smile.

"Yeah, but she's kind of manly-looking." Cora laughed quietly.

"Well, that detour was a complete waste of time. We need to go somewhere else, now." Bridgit sighed as they continued walking.

"I vote we beat up the next sap who passes us by and get some information. I don't know about you, but I feeling like cracking some heads." Cora clenched her fists.

"Well, I'll never say no to that."

* * *

"I'd like to thank you all for being here." Harry began solemnly.

It was a somber, gray day. A light drizzle sprinkled through the air on a most appropriately miserable and depressing day.

"Mary Sue would have liked that." He continued. "She wasn't here for a long time, but I'm sure she would be touched to know that, far away from Ponyland, she still had friends."

"I'm just glad I could be here, Harry, in your time of need." Neville offered his condolences. "I, too, know what it's like to lose an impossibly fortuitous dream goddess. Although…mine wasn't a golem. And she's not dead."

Harry choked back a girlish sob and bit his lower lip, looking towards the ground so none present could see the jewel-like tears welling in his deep, sensuous green eyes.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll find someone else to love someday. Someone who's been close to you all along…"

"But…but Hermione's taken." He moped.

"I'm not talking about Hermione, Harry." Ginny attributed his insensitivity to greatness.

"Professor McGonagall? But I'm not really into cougars." Harry blushed shyly at his own inexperience.

"No, Harry…I was thinking of someone closer to your own age, but not exactly your own age. Maybe a little younger, red hair, freckles, my-eyes-coloured eyes…" She blushed at her own forwardness.

"Sometimes Mary Sue had you-coloured eyes. That was when I knew what the names of our children would be." Harry sniffed.

Ron quickly placed his hands firmly on his sister's shoulders and pulled her away from the creepy, grieving nerd.

"No, dear, you can do better." Hermione whispered.

"Okay, Harry. I think it's time for you to say goodbye to your Mary Sue now." Ron prompted him.

"Do you *****sniff* think she's in pony heaven?" Harry asked, lower lip quivering.

"Of course, she is, Harry. And one day when you pass on, you can look down on her from human heaven and sometimes visit if she's been really good." Hermione patted him on the head. "Now why don't you be a brave boy and stop crying? Mary Sue wouldn't want you to be sad. She'd want you to move on and find new happiness with someone else. Someone who's not Ginny."

"Okay." Harry wiped the tears from his eyes." I'll be happy…for Mary Sue!" He suddenly collapsed into the fetal position and started screaming. "AUGH! My dead Mommy!"

"All right…ashes to ashes and dust to dust." Ron kicked the shoebox full of her pebbly remains into the freshly dug earth and buried it.

The funeral procession quickly marched back to the warm and inviting castle, leaving Harry on the ground in misery.

"Why don't you love me, world?" He whispered pathetically before passing into a dead faint from emotional fatigue.

* * *

"Oh, Dumbledore, my champion of justice. It seems we cannot wake young Starsinger from his anger-like coma." Madame Pomfrey wailed.

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Reagan roared.

"Pull yourself together, my darling Mystery." Dumbledore slapped her lovingly across the face.

"Oh, Albingtonopoly, I'm sorry. It's just too awful to think that such a young, talented, practitioner of medicine should be reduced to creating patients instead of saving them." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU A FAT LIP!" Reagan roared, ramming his face against the door.

"Allow me to create a more suitable atmosphere." Dumbledore waved his magical wand, "_Lumos Two, Electric Boogaloo_." He whispered in a sultry voice.

The voice hole for Reagan's cell slammed shut so they could no longer hear him and the lights faded as a few choice ambient candles appeared and lit themselves.

"Oh, Albus. What if we have to…put him down?"

"Hush, my love." Dumbledore swept her close to him. "Do not fret."

"_**So**_." Professor McGonagall's shrill voice cut through their moment. "It would seem that Madame Pomfrey is not the only one playing doctor."

"Minnerva, you scathe me." Madame Pomfrey gasped. "Albingtonopoly told me that you were cool with us."

"_Did_ he, then?"

"Uhh…uhh…I can explain everything in a few simple words." Dumbledore stammered.

"Oh?" Both women put their hands on their hips and raised their eyebrows in unison.

"I'm pregnant! I don't know which of you is the father. I thought I'd play the field until the test results got back." He sniffed.

"Oh, Albus. Do you truly think I'm that stupid?" McGonagall was affronted.

"You poor thing. In-school pregnancies are never easy. Why, I can't even tell you how many magical abortions I've had to do under the table. And oh, the depression. Nothing some Lumos can't take care of."

"Mystery, before you confess to anymore illegal activities you should take into account that he is obviously playing us for fools. Clearly he is male and is therefore not pregnant."

"I see where you're coming from." Madame Pomfrey nodded.

"But that's just it." Dumbledore began. "I've been carrying this dark secret for many years, but it's time I unloaded it from my frail man-chest. Something about the nature of my sexuality and identity that I've had to bear silently, like a cursed wraith. Minnerva, Mystery, have you ever noticed how I am always drinking from a hip flask hidden within the labyrinth that is my beard?"

"Yes, Albus. Everyone knows about your alcohol problem, but that's no excuse for this kind of behavior." McGonagall scolded him.

"No, that's just it. You see, I am always drinking from a polyjuice potion to change my appearance." He confessed.

"But…even if you're a woman that doesn't explain how one of us got you pregnant." Madame Pomfrey pointed out after scanning through one of her medical books.

"No, I'm not a woman. You see: I am a seahorse. The polyjuice potion is to keep me human, but for my kind we can never lose our reproductive properties. The males in the seahorse species carry the child. It's very scientific, really."

"I don't think that's how it works Al-"

"Oh, Albus! Will our children be seahorses?" Madame Pomfrey wailed.

"Well, if they're yours there's no telling what they'll be." Dumbledore admitted.

"What makes you think that they're yours, Mystery?" McGonagall demanded coldly.

"Well _obviously_ because he loves me more."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I am the skankbot 7000." Pomfrey recited mechanically, mimicking her colleague. "I am incapable of the emotion called love and produce calculator babies from asexual budding. Initiating self destruct sequence."

"You hoebag!" McGonagall shrieked.

"Sorry to interrupt this enlightening conversation," Sammy finally entered the room she'd been standing outside of in fear for quite some time, "but I was wondering if someone could tell me how Reagan's doing?"

"Oh right. Well, that is a simple matter: the problem is voodoo. Find the doll, free it of its vices and then your princess shall be safe again." Madame Pomfrey explained.

"Uhh…what?"

"You heard her! Now scoot!" McGonagall snapped. "We have adult matters to discuss."

Needing no second bidding, Sammy blitzed out of there before anymore of her childhood could be stolen.

* * *

"All right. You are all assembled here because apparently everyone who's any good is either gone, incapacitated or in a crazy Springer-esque bitch fight." Sammy recited before her troops.

"Uh, I'm here too." Professor Summersong raised her hand.

"Yes, but Trelawney counts as negative one person, so she cancels you out." Sammy explained.

"Ah."

"According to my research, if Chewie used a voodoo doll to disrupt Reagan's inner Chakra, then we need to find his secret lair where the voodoo doll hides and remove the pins to restore Reagan's emotional balance. However, if the doll is destroyed before the pins are removed, the damage will be irreversible." Hermione hefted the gigantic book she'd been carrying at Ron, who crumpled under its weight and succumbed to the darkness of a minor concussion.

"I'll contact Reagan's spirit on the astral plane and guide him to safety!" Trelawney boomed.

"Yes…you play spiritual boyscout, we'll do the real work." Summersong muttered.

"Just like college!" Trelawney giggled. "There were so many hawt boys! Why did they all have to lose their hair? So bald now…"

"Who invited her anyway?" Sammy demanded. Everyone had learned that subtlety was not required where Trelawney was concerned.

"I'm sorry. She just follows me around now. Ever since the séance, she thinks we're friends." Summersong's voice quivered slightly.

"I'm so sorry." Sammy put a hand on her shoulder as an aside and then turned to the rest of the motley crew, which essentially consisted of Neville, Hermione, Fred, George and Professor Summersong (Ron and Trelawney were write-offs at this point). "Okay, let's move out! Make sure you contact the rest of the group once you find Chewie's hiding spot. We need to proceed with caution in case he left some surprises. And, go!" She waved and they all ran off to search through the school.

* * *

"Okay…ready…and…now!"

The whispers preceded Bridgit and Cora jumping some poor fool. That poor fool was Peter the rat guy. Before he could let out the terrified whimper at the back of his throat, his face had met with two fists, he had been gagged and his wand confiscated.

"Hello, poppet." Bridgit grinned roguishly.

Peter the rat guy quaked in silent terror.

"We have a few questions for you and you should answer them. However, if you try and scream for help, we'll cut out your tongue with this." Cora held up a rusty eggbeater.

"Do you understand?" Bridgit gave a sickening smile.

Peter the rat guy nodded as he eyed the eggbeater, clearly unaware of what it was.

"Very good. But, just to make sure…"

"_Silentium!_"

They removed the gag, but bound his arm and legs.

"W-who are you?" Peter the rat guy whimpered.

"That's of no importance. What _is_ important is that you tell us what we need to know." Bridgit jabbed him in the chest with the eggbeater.

"Magic may be less labour-intensive, but muggle torture methods can be just as useful and even more fun." Cora smiled darkly.

"W-w-what do you want to know?"

"There is an antidote for the poisons locked in the Death Eater tattoos, is there not?" Cora demanded coolly.

"Well, yes, but why would you want to know that? Clearly you two aren't Death Eaters."

"Just tell us what we want to know." Bridgit turned the eggbeater's handle, knowing the man's lack of knowledge of muggle utensils would be scaring him spitless right now.

Peter the rat guy's eyes widened as recognition dawned on him.

"It's Severus, isn't it? I _knew_ he was not to be trusted. Truly, he is Dumbledore's lapdog now and playing double agent against my beloved Lord Voldemort."

"Where is it?" Bridgit turned the handle faster and moved it closer to his face.

"I have no qualms about telling you. Lord Voldemort has it. He keeps it in his room somewhere, but you won't find it without raising alarm. He's in for his afternoon nap, and shall undoubtedly be awakened by you two rifling around through everything. Also, his room is guarded by his beloved Nagini. The second anyone enters his chambers without being invited, she kills them before they can blink. Such is the way of the ninja snake." Peter the rat guy laughed hollowly.

"We'll worry about Nagini. Tell us where his chambers are." Cora smacked him across the face for good measure.

Real pain was more potent than magical pain sometimes.

"The paltry torture you offer is nothing compared to what my Lord will do to me if he discovers I have betrayed him." Peter the rat guy snorted.

"Don't you think he'd already kill you for revealing to us the location of the antidote and the security measures of his innermost sanctum?" Bridgit giggled menacingly.

Peter shuddered at that cold, shrill titter.

"N-no."

"You'd best worry about pleasing us – who haven't made up our minds about killing you painfully yet – than about your master, who already has." Cora gave him a smug smile.

"He's in the hall to your left. I was just bringing him his nightcap before he went to sleep, although I'm certain he already slumbers, what with the delay from you jumping me and all." Peter the rat guy revealed his last bit of useful information.

"That's all we needed, spineless cur. _Glaciesei cubus_."

Peter the rat guy was frozen in a block of ice and, like his fellow Death Eater, relocated to a random supply closet.

"Alright, Cora. This is it." Bridgit smiled nervously.

"Piece of cake." Cora nodded grimly.

"Yep…nothing better than breaking into Voldemort's bedroom."

"Nothing simpler…"

"For king and country then?" Bridgit offered.

"Meh. Whatever."

And the two crept stealthily onwards.

* * *

Everyone was in Trelawney's room/classroom.

"Who wants tea?" Trelawney bounded joyfully into the room, spilling drops of scalding hot tea on Neville.

"It feels like grandma Longbottom's kisses!" He wailed.

"Seeing how lonely she is really makes you glad for your friends." Harry sighed. "By the way, thanks for inviting me along." He gave Ron and Hermione a pointed glance.

"You were busy." Hermione said politely.

"Crying like a baby." Ron added.

"Oh, Ron. Blunt honesty is the true mark of manhood. Please take me to your Sherwood Forest. My maidenhood is oh so intact and your l33t Robin Hood thieving skills make it yours for the taking!" Hermione threw herself at Ron.

"Awesome!" Ron picked her up and dashed off, forgetting the silk rope ladder in his haste.

There was an impressive thud followed by a moment of tense silence.

"Urghhh…that really hurt." Hermione moaned.

"Hermione, your femur is impinging into my thyroid." Ron whimpered.

"Truly we are as one." Hermione sighed dreamily before passing out from pain.

"We'll worry about that one later…" Sammy slammed the trapdoor shut.

"I still can't believe we didn't find anything." Fred sighed.

"Between the two of us, we must know all of the secret passages…and still nothing!" George rammed his fist against the Neville.

"That's how Grams says she loves me." He whimpered quietly.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Why, I read a Sherlock Holmes book once and it turned out that the stolen item was hidden out in the open and all the police, despite their most intense and detailed searches, didn't think to look there." Professor Summersong offered her parable.

"But we searched all the dorms, the Great Hall, even the bathrooms and we still found nothing! I have half a mind to search the field to see if the damn mutt buried it somewhere." Sammy sighed in frustration, trying to maintain her manly image without betraying her intense worry and pain at her love's incapacitation.

"I don't know about that. Something as small as Chewie couldn't be outside in a secluded place by itself for long without being picked off by one of Hagrid's vulture-bats." Harry reasoned.

"Okay, talking isn't getting us anywhere, so why don't we just take a moment to think and reflect?" Sammy suggested, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.

Everyone was tired from searching and shared a feeling of general frustration and hopelessness, so they ended up spending their thinking time glancing around the room looking at the strange assortment of items kept by Professor Trelawney. They noticed smudged fingerprints left lovingly over every single surface, the layers of dust blanketing glass display cases protecting things best not identified. Finally, their eyes came to collectively rest on the giant piles of garbage and rotting food strewn about her living area.

"Good God, Sybill. Don't you ever clean up after yourself?" Profesosor Summersong scolded the woman who was only her colleague by default.

"My room is dirty? It shouldn't be! Dumbledore assigned a house elf to me at the start of term." She ignored reality. "He was supposed to take care of it."

"Well, have you seen him recently?" Sammy asked snidely.

"Come to think of it…I haven't seen him since the second week into first term." Trelawney admitted.

"Sybill, you need to take care of house elves. They need food and water! Now he's probably dead." Professor Summersong shook her head at the wastefulness of it all.

"Oh no! I've killed again! And Dumbledore said we weren't allowed to bury anymore bodies in the pumpkin patch." She looked desperately around for an easy out.

"Sybill! Remember the pact!" Professor Summersong whispered sharply, stunned that she had retained any memory of the staff meeting.

"I don't want to touch it if it's dead." Professor Trelawney wailed.

"Oh, I'll go do it!" Sammy muttered darkly, storming off.

"What was that about killing, Professor?" Nevillle quaked.

"Nothing, Mr. Longbottom. As you are no doubt aware, aside from Mr. Diggory, Hogwart's has had no student deaths ever." Professor Summersong lied through her teeth.

"Oh, okay!" Neville relaxed.

Trelawney gave her a thumbs up and mouthed, 'way to fool him'.

"Umm, guys? I think you should come see this." Sammy called from Trelawney's living area.

"What is it?"

"Is it gross?"

The twins leapt eagerly to their feet.

"Is it her lingerie?" Neville shook with fear.

Harry gave him a sideways glance.

"Why would you say that? And out loud, even."

"Well, don't you think old spinsters with lingerie is gross?" Neville sighed, trying again to purge Gram-Gram's "forbidden closet" from his psyche.

"Age shall never defeat the enlightened." Trelawney scream-groused, slamming herself into her hypobaric chamber.

As she entered stasis, Professor Summersong, Harry and Neville entered Trelawney's hamster nest. At first, they attributed the chewed-up pillows to her. Then they noticed a tiny room full of chew toys with a doggy bed taking up half of the floor.

"Does Trelawney have a dog?" Neville shuddered the thought of another neglected skeleton to be retrieved.

"No," Sammy said decisively, "but her house elf Blindie did."

* * *

Nagini dully became aware of the rise and fall of her master's chest as he slumbered. Something had awakened her. Lifting her head up, she tested the air with her dexterous tongue and tensed in alarm. Someone was in the room.

"Hs-" Her warning was abruptly cut short by a dart plunging into her throat.

Without so much as another sound, her head gently fell to her master's chest as the poison coursed through her veins. Before she could reflect on the irony of dying by a venomous poison, she died to the rhythm of his sleeping breath.

Bridgit lowered her blowpipe and put it back into her pouch and waited as Cora crept stealthily into the room. Checking to make sure he was asleep, Cora waved an okay to Bridgit as the Dark Lord continued to slumber. Bridgit felt her heart beating in her ears as she walked past that twisted face, half expecting the eyes to snap open. Voldemort sat upright snoozing in a giant, throne-like chair holding a giant stick in one hand that they assumed was for punishing his lackeys, or anything else hit-able.

Cora beckoned Bridgit to a door on the far side of the room. Silently opening it, they slipped into the room and closed it gently behind them. The room was bare save for a massive flat sheet of rock and a bright, hot bulb shining down on them from the ceiling. They gave each other a look, both thinking that Voldemort was a complete nutter.

Taking a chance, Bridgit whispered the silencing spell as quietly as she could. Enveloped in a bubble of silence, they could conduct their work without fear of being discovered. Both relaxed slightly, relieved that they didn't have to worry about being quiet.

"Okay, if you were an old crazy man where would you hide important things?" Cora wondered aloud.

"Well, crazy old people hide things under their mattresses…but he doesn't have a bed. All I see is a rock and a sun lamp." Bridgit gazed about the room.

"Hmmm…this proves that he's crazy, so…_winguardium leviosa_!" Cora waved her hands about and the sheet of rock responded, lifting into the air to reveal a small hole underneath.

"I'll see what's over there." Bridgit scurried under the rock's frightening shadow and picked up a small shoebox.

She scurried to the other side of the room and Cora put the rock down, joining her friend to examine what they had found.

They sat cross-legged on the floor and began rifling through the box.

"Look at this! These are Dumbledore's memos." Bridgit pulled out a few sheets of paper. "They've been shredded, but he meticulously taped them back together again."

The sheet of paper read: "Idea #4589: Fleet of Land Boats" and had schematics drawn of a boat with large wheels mounted on the sides. There was an 'X' marked in red ink and a side note in Dumbledore's handwriting reading "Too crazy". Underneath in green ink in a narrower, loopy cursive they assumed was Voldemort's read "Not too crazy for me! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

"I guess the rest of them are ideas Dumbledore rejected due to their insanity and somehow Voldemort got a hold of them and pieced them back together again." Bridgit mused, tossing the rest aside on a pile.

"Somewhat obsessive, no?" Cora nervously laughed, hoping they weren't running out of time.

More rifling revealed war bonds, crossword puzzles, two tarnished old wedding bands, a dead bird and a diary.

"I don't see a cure here." Bridgit frowned in irritation. "Where else could it be?"

"Well, maybe it's written down in the diary?" Cora suggested. "I'll use my freakish gift of speed reading to scan it."

She read through the yellowed pages of narrow cursive at a surprising speed, pausing every now and again to tear out pages. By the time she had finished, half of the diary was gone.

"Most of these are war plans and the potions list for the cure…and the cure is also useful for several other ailments that he didn't want getting out. I guess sometimes evil scientists find helpful things. Anyway, the rest is just him detailing all of his dreams about snakes. He has problems." Cora sighed.

"Allright. I'll run the box back," Bridgit re-packed it and put the lid back on, "and you put the rock back. Then we'll see about getting out of here."

"Gotcha." Cora nodded.

Bridgit ran back to the hole, stuck the box exactly where she had found it, and dodged to the side again as Cora replaced the sheet rock. Satisfied, the two dusted off their hands and gave each other a high five.

"We did it! Not only did we find the cure, but we found potentially useful information about his sense of strategy and overall plans." Cora smiled.

"We rock!" Bridgit giggled as they both turned around.

They froze and their blood went cold as they stared into the blazing red eyes of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They screamed.


	29. Falling into Darkness

**Chapter Twenty-six: Falling Into Darkness**

"Dammit! Where is it?" Sammy fumed, flinging random objects about the room.

"It's quite brilliant, really." Harry admitted. "Nobody hangs out with Trelawney, so it's the perfect place to hide something."

"Blimey, those house elves are tiny!" Fred's voice, muffled by his head stuck in the tiny cupboard that had been Blindie's room, complained.

"Perhaps Hermione was on to something with S.P.E.W. then?" George prodded his twin.

"Not that Blindie was a very good worker anyway. In fact, I can hardly tell the difference in this room before and after he died." Fred looked about.

"I guess Trelawney's just used to living in filth."

The two laughed. They also shared a secret, knowing glance. Without any inspiration in the shameful face of their recent string of pranking failures, they had been unable to think of a good prank for Trelawney. Feeling uninspired and slightly bitter, they had opted to pee in her hypobaric chamber. Although she hadn't noticed, they took solace in the fact that they knew. It was pettier than usual, but they were also kind of assholes.

Neville shuddered. Taking a break, he had unconsciously started staring at Trelawney's death-like face within the hypobaric chamber. Without the presence of her misty soul across her features, her resemblance to a Muppet was truly horrifying. Looking away from the grim specter of near-death and ignoring the smell of pee, Neville aimlessly browsed the many shelves containing wild and random piles of things as unrelated as a hippo is to battery acid. That's when he saw it.

It was very inauspicious at first; trapped under a glass case and lying underneath a snakeskin. Made of purple burlap with black yarn for hair, was a vaguely human-shaped lump of a doll. Neville gasped. That was it!

"I say, chaps! Lookee here!" Neville stepped forward towards the case, reaching for the glass.

"Wait! Neville, don't!" Sammy yelled, sliding out of Trelawney's room. "It might be booby trapped."

Neville froze in terror at the thought of boobies.

"Grandma says that they destroy all who behold them." He whimpered.  
Ignoring this seeming nonsense, Fred and George bounded up to the display.

"We'll take it from here!" They gave each other a Weasley tag-team high five.

"Go forth, my brother!" George bellowed and Fred leapt to action.

Using his keen weasel eyes, Fred zoomed in on the physical setup of the display case.

"Right then! Here we are." He gestured to what seemed to be thin air.

"Mind explaining?" Sammy sighed.

"Allow me." George took over. "Right here, before your very eyes, is one of the finest trip wires we have ever seen in our careers as ragamuffins. The slightest movement of the glass case will set it off."

"Blimey." Harry breathed in surprise.

They really _could_ think!

"Ah, I see. Well, then, all we have to do is this and then-"

"Wait!" Fred and George yelled at the same time.

"-it'll disarm…it?" Halfway through Sammy's sentence, the contents of the glass display case smoldered into a pile of ash within seconds.

There was a moment of horrified silence as all beheld the smoking ruin.

"Disarming the first trap…" George began.

"…sets off the second trap." Fred finished.

Sammy continued to stare at the remains of the voodoo doll.

"Destroying it before removing pins meant that Reagan was going to be in an angry psychotic state forever, right?" Neville squeaked.

"Well…yes." Professor Summersong reluctantly admitted.

"Isn't there any way we can fix this?" Harry asked numbly.

Professor Summersong turned to face them all, her expression one of deep regret.

"I'm sorry, boys and Sammy. There's nothing we can do."

Sammy still didn't turn around and her fists trembled by her side.

"I'm the worst girlfriend ever." She muttered between clenched teeth.

* * *

Hugging each other in terror, Bridgit and Cora continued screaming at the impassive face of Lord Voldemort. He seemed untouched by their display of fright. After a few moments more of screaming, the two quieted down from the need to breathe. There was a moment of frozen silence where they waited for Voldemort to spring to action.

"Why isn't he doing anything?" Cora asked in confusion.

"More importantly, why isn't he wearing any pants?" Bridgit wailed at the sight unfit for human eyes.

"And why isn't he breathing?" Cora let go of Bridgit.

"Maybe Dark Lords don't need to breathe." Bridgit suggested.

Cora crept up to the pale, sickly form and poked it. The body fell to the ground and folded in on itself.

"What the hell?" Cora cried.

Bridgit looked at the hook the skin had been hanging on, whereupon she noticed a sign that read 'to eat for later'.

"I think…he sheds his skin." Bridgit felt like she was going to be sick.

Truly he was more snakelike than anyone had ever suspected.

"But why does he keep it around?" Cora felt a tremor run through her body from head to foot.

"Some reptiles eat their shed skin…for nutrients." Bridgit wanted to cry.

"I wanna go home." Cora sank to the floor in horror. "Screw England. They can all die."

"Well, we've gotta put it back on the hook before we restore sound, otherwise we won't be able to get the door back open." Bridgit pointed out that the skin was obstructing the door's range of motion.

"I don't wanna touch it. I already did. You do it." Cora whined.

"No way! You've already got the germs on you. There's no sense in infecting both of us. You do it!" Bridgit countered.

"Dibs out!"

"One two three not it!"

"Long straw!"

"Tails!"

"Checkmate!"

"Bingo!" Bridgit screamed, praying for the end of her torment.

"Doesn't that mean you win?"

"So does checkmate." Bridgit sulked.

"Fine! Just stop being such a baby!" Cora snapped, kicking the skin out of her way.

It stuck to her foot and snapped to a stop like a freshly-washed sheet.

"Oh God, it's on me!" Cora screamed. "Get it off!"

She hopped about on her free leg, waving the other about causing the skin to trail back and forth like a horrid Voldemort-shaped kite.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" Cora tried to repent for anything she might have done to deserve this.

She managed to shake the thing free and it shot up into the air, sticking with a dull splat to the ceiling. It drooped down and looked like it would eventually fall.

"Let's get outta here." Bridgit wailed.

"Okay, but we gotta be quiet." Cora reminded her.

They took two minutes to breathe again and calm themselves down. Then they opened the door, released the silence spell, and slipped quietly out of the room; relieved to see that Voldemort was still asleep in his chair, dead snake hanging around his neck.

* * *

Creeping out into the hallway, the two urgently power-walked away from there as fast as they could without breaking into a dead sprint. The hallways were mercifully empty of anyone who might question why they were there. After five minutes of tense silence, Cora giggled softly.

"We're going to get away with it." She whispered.

"You can say that when we're back at Hogwart's." Bridgit tensely replied.

"Right. So, you have all the notes, right?" Cora asked quietly.

"Yeah, in my pocket." Bridgit patted her pouch.

"Good!" Cora abruptly broke off and ran away in another direction.

"What are you doing?" Bridgit demanded.

"You can take care of the greater good! I've got some unfinished business back at the lab!

Bridgit stared after her friend in horror. How could she run back into the belly of the beast when they were almost in the clear? Cora was going to going to get herself caught. Bridgit's mind raced. Even if Cora did get caught, she could still escape. In fact, knowing the huge distraction Cora would likely cause from her over-the-top methods, Bridgit would have an even easier go of escaping and have enough getaway time to ensure the precious information got back to Hogwart's.

But could she just leave Cora behind like this?

"Damn you, Cora Willowstaff." She spat. "You've always been so selfish! Fine, you do that…and I'll take care of the greater good."

And she continued on.

* * *

"Okay, here's the plan:" Sammy began, leading the group back to Reagan's cell, "I'll tell him what happened and let him bludgeon me to death with his bare fists. Any questions?"

"That sounds fair." Professor Summersong nodded.

"Don't you think that's going to bit too far, mate?" Fred asked incredulously.

"It wasn't your fault. Really!" Neville stressed.

"No, I thought about it. I think bludgeoning is the best choice." Sammy stubbornly continued as they all rounded the corner.

They stopped in surprise at the three bodies laying on the ground and the open door.

"Dear me, he seems to have escaped." Professor Summersong murmured.

"Reagan! Are you-" Sammy ran into the room and screeched to a halt when she found him sitting at a table.

He stood up slowly, the chair scarping back from the table as he rose to his full height.

"Hi guys!" He gave a chipper smile. "Where have you been?"

"Umm…rescuing you?" Harry offered.

"Reagan! Ibrokeyourvoodoodollandnowyo u'rescrewed! I'm so sorry!" Sammy confessed.

"What? Oh, don't worry about that! Through personal reflection and meditation, I have managed to restore balance to my mind. It took some re-aligning of my charkas, but everything's alright now." He beamed, certainly making little sense.

"But what about Dumbledore, McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey?" Neville pointed to the three unconscious faculty members.

Reagan blushed.

"Sorry about that…it seems there's still some tweaking left to do. But don't you worry! I'll get the hang of it in no time!" He tittered.

"Have I told you lately how awesome you are?" Sammy smiled in relief.

"No, but now's a good time to start." He winked and put his hand around her hip.

The two walked off, leaving everyone else feeling supremely cheated for their efforts.

"Checkers anyone?" Neville offered weakly.

Everyone else muttered about having something else to do, except for Harry who sighed.

"Sure Neville. Bachelor checkers it is." He wiped a tear from his eye and the two began to play, ignoring the three unconscious and likely bleeding faculty members.

* * *

Dr. Doom was sitting idly at a table playing solitaire with floating cards when Cora suddenly smashed into the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Dr. Doom! It's an emergency!" Cora strode into the room.

The Doctor lowered his wand and gave her a confused look.

"Where's the emergency?" He demanded.

"Right here." Cora growled, killing him on the spot with the magic of death.

As his lifeless, fatty corpse crumpled to the ground, the caged people looked at her in apprehension.

"_Alo hamora_." Cora unlocked all of the cages at once. "Be quiet and you all might just get out of here alive."

She took a commanding tone so that the bewildered people would listen to her.

"Is this a trick?" A thin woman asked tiredly.

"No. Now get up." Cora pulled her to her feet.

Quietly like frightened deer, the people filed out of the cages and gathered in front of Cora.

"What now?" A man asked.

"Well…" Cora looked around. "Ah, yes! I shall let you know my clever, thought of beforehand plan. We will escape out the window!"

"Are you mad!" An older man boomed. "We're on top of Parliament. The fall alone will KILL us!"

"Quiet!" Cora hissed. "Or you'll all die a lot faster."

"I don't want to die." A little boy started wailing.

"Ohhh…shut up." Cora clamped her hands on either side of her head. "Look, I'll lower you down with magic and-"

There was a collective gasp and everyone backed away from her.

"You're one of **them**!" A woman screeched.

"No no! It's good magic! Like-like angels!" Cora tried to desperately come up with something.

"What would you know of angels, you godless freak!" A man demanded.

"I used to give blankets to homeless people?" She lied.

"I volunteer." A young man boldly stepped forward. "What do you need me to do? I'm as good as dead here, so I'll take any hope you can give me. Then, even if I don't make it back to my wife and children, I can at least say I died trying and not groveling on the floor like a coward."

"How could you talk if you were dead?" A man muttered.

"Great! Okay, so come here and I'll help you down."

Using a levitation spell, Cora quickly and carefully lowered him down to the ground.

"Now run!" She called after him and he ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

A press of people surged forward in desperation to be next.

"Let me go, please! I haven't seen my son in years!" One woman cried.

"I'll give you five hundred pounds! I'm really a wealthy banker! Really!" Another man tried to push his way to the front of the line, offering a paltry bribe.

"Get in line and shut up or else I'm not helping any of you." Cora snapped and the panicked people, very surprisingly, obeyed. "Once you get down, don't wait. I don't know how long it will be until someone finds us, so run as fast as you can."

She started lowering the next person out the window. The tension in the air was thick as everyone wondered whether or not they would be able to escape this hellish nightmare to see the outside world again. Working efficiently, it didn't take long for Cora to get the majority of the thirty people in line to the ground. She then turned to the remaining ten who had stayed sitting in their cages.

"Thanks for your patience, guys. You're next!" Cora sighed.

There was no response and the people continued staring blankly at the walls.

"Come on! We need to go!" Cora prompted them.

She whirled her head around as she heard pounding from the outside hallway.

"Let me out! Alarm! Alarm!" The voice of the mostly-thawed Dewerta cried from within the supply closet. "There are intruders!"

Knowing she had run out of time, Cora ran up to the nearest person and grabbed their arm, trying to drag them from the cage.

"C'mon! It's your time to go. You can be free!" Cora yelled at him.

Someone grabbed her from behind and Cora screamed, whirling around to give whoever it was a taste of her fisticuffs. She stopped short and gaped at Bridgit. She shook off her surprise at not being abandoned and sprang into the offensive.

"What took you so damn long?" She demanded.

"I was setting up barricades in the hallways to buy your stupid ass some more time. At least _one_ of us thought this through a little." Bridgit grumped.

"I liked it better when all the stuff that came out of your mouth was stupid nonsense." Cora flippantly lashed out with her words.

"Well, you seem to have been making progress out of childhood as of late so I decided to kick it up a notch." Bridgit coolly replied.

"Well, now that you're here help me with these people!" Cora gestured at the uncooperative prisoners.

Bridgit only needed to take one look at those vacant faces.

"They're gone, Cora." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but they're broken. They're not going anywhere and if we try to help them, we will die."

Shouts were echoing down the hallway and there was a loud smashing noise.

"That was the barricade, Cora. We need to go now." Bridgit tried to drag her friend to the window.

Cora let herself be led to the window, but then took a look back at the remaining people.

"But if we-"

"There's no "but" in this, Cora, and you know it as well as I do. If you need me to be the bad guy who forced you away from this so that you can live with the outcome, then that's fine by me. As long as we make it out alive."

Bridgit then shoved her out the window.

"DAMN YOUUUUU BRIDGITTT!" Cora screamed as she freefell.

Bridgit followed suit, jumping impassively from the window and freefalling to give herself as much of a speed advantage as she could. Just before hitting the bottom, both cast a quick levitation spell to decelerate and then broke off into a wild dash. Stray bolts of magic struck all around them as they ran and both could see people pouring out of the parliament building to give chase. Random by-standers were being struck down by the hastily-aimed spells and the agents coming out of Parliament.

"And this is why I wanted to leave them." Bridgit made a pointed comment as innocent people who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time were killed by poorly-aimed spells.

"I regret nothing!" Cora snapped stubbornly and they continued on, sharply turning into an alleyway.

They could hear voices following close behind and knew it would only be a matter of time before they were found. They caught sight of a dead end and their faces paled.

"Yeah…we're screwed." Bridgit sighed.

"Bridgit…for what it's worth…about screwing up the mission. I'm…"

Any further conversation was interrupted by the ground opening up and swallowing them whole. Their screams as they fell were muffled by the earth closing up again, burying them alive.


	30. The I Told You So Chapter

**Chapter Twenty-seven: The "I told you so" Chapter**

As it gradually peeled, the surface tension was vanquished and the skin fell to the ground with a loud squelch.

Voldemort jerked awake, wrenching Nagaini's corpse from around his neck.

"Agh! Sunshine!" He screamed, waving his decrepit arms around.

Becoming a bit more lucid, he took in his surroundings.

"Oh, Nagini. I just had the most wonderful snake dream." He hissed, with a smile on his face.

Nagini hung limply from his shoulder and said nothing in reply.

"Ah, poor lass. Still tuckered out from eating those baby harp seals. You just rest." He wrapped her corpse around his head and regained his feet, heading for his innermost sanctum.

"SIR!" Two deatheaters breathlessly staggered into the room.

"What?" He whirled around, glaring at his interrupting minions.

"Intruders, sir! They freed sixty-six percent of the research muggles." They snapped sharply to attention, clearly having received their sources from FOX News.

"Damn tree huggers." Voldemort snarled. "Have they been captured yet?"

"Not yet, sir, but we're still in pursuit."

"Not good enough! _Avada kadavra_!" Voldemort killed him, leaving the other minion quaking in fear. "I have something to attend to within my personal chambers and then you shall inform me of the situation. Then we shall catch those traitors and destroy them." He shuffled towards his room.

"Ah, had another snake dream sir?" The man gave a nervous smile.

"Yes. This one was a keeper."

He shuffled into his room as his minion waited politely outside. He was stunned to see his shed skin laying on the ground.

"Gross. Now it's dirty." Voldemort muttered. He looked sneakily in all directions and then turned back to the skin. "Five second rule!" He cried, and devoured it.

"Awesome." He sighed, licking his fingers. "Now to write about my snake dream in my dear diary."

He retrieved the book and frowned at its weight. Then he opened it.

"RGHWHAT? IMPOSSIBLE!" He roared, finding some of the pages missing.

Storming from the room, he killed his remaining minion in a fit of bad temper. Two other minions, who had recently appeared, didn't even flinch as he approached them.

"Tonight we shall drain the blood of the interlopers and feed it to Nagini." Voldemort snarled.

The two stared at the obviously dead snake, noting the dart protruding from its neck.

"Uhh…My Lord? Are you sure Nagini is…well?" The braver asked.

"She looks a little…"

"SHE'S JUST SLEEPING! Now get out of my sight and ready the landboats!" He roared.

"My Lord, wouldn't you like just a nosh of your awesome potion?" One asked, noticing the stealthy advent of senility.

"Just a sip, but then I'll make them pay!" Vodemort snatched the potion from his minion's outstretched hand and chugged the whole thing.

Then he stood straight up, suddenly, and had a look of euphoria across his face.

"No. I know who did this." He grinned.

"Do you still want us to hunt the interlopers down in the landboats?" The meeker minion asked.

"No. No need. I know where they are going. Ready the landboats and assemble my army. Tonight we ride for Hogwarts!" He then swirled off, dark cloak trailing behind him."

"He's so awesome." His minion whispered in awe.

"Do you think he'll ever realize she's dead?"

"Hopefully not while we're around…"

An anguished scream echoed down the hallway.

"Crap! Quick!"

They ran to a supply closet and pushed an unconscious Peter out. Surely here they would be safe.

* * *

Bridgit and Cora landed on something soft and squishy. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they could make out hundreds of small bodies surrounding them.

"Bridgit…I think we have company." Cora whispered.

"I don't think it's the kind that eats your cookies, though." Bridgit whimpered.

"We have cookies, if it be your wish." A fat-sounding voice cheerfully informed them.

"Who are you?" Cora squinted into the darkness.

"I forgot that you baldies need the light. Here!"

A lantern lit up and Bridgit and Cora stared in horror at the two-foot tall, hairy little mole people standing around them.

"Oh my God." Bridgit breathed.

Cora's eyes lit up.

"I TOLD you they were real! But would you listen? NO!"

"Oh yeah? Well I said your stupid 'free the people' plan would ruin our mission, and you didn't listen either!" Bridgit shot back.

"It turned out okay." Cora shrugged.

"I see you have many questions." The little leader guy ignored them. "But you must be tired and hungry. Come, join us for a large luncheon." All of the mole people started toddling down the dark tunnel.

"Wait! We need to get back to Hogwarts!" Bridgit called after them.

"Good! Our tunnel goes there. You can eat along the way."

"I'm so confused." Bridgit cried.

"Just go with the flow." Cora smiled, following the creepy mole things.

"We have a fast train here. It will return you to the above ground Hogwart's in two hours." The mole man continued, bragging about their lightning train system.

"Sweet!" Cora laughed.

"Why are you helping us?" Bridgit looked at him suspiciously.

"You saved all of our lives!" The elder moleman wailed.

"How? We lived in Canada and you live in England. When did we have time to save your lives?"

"I _told_ you the displacer beasts were terrorizing the mole people! Now they're just paying us back." Cora explained.

"That doesn't make any sense! These mole people are British!" Bridgit was getting irritated.

"You have saved our species, and thus our lives." The elder continued. "The females of moletopia live over the ocean in Canada. Britain is becoming uninhabitable. There are few forests left and the humans always dig and put in pipes and cables. There are less and less places to hide, so we sent our molewives and molechildren to make a new city in the secluded mountain ranges of Canada. However, the safety we had thought we were sending them to was threatened by those displacer beasts you kindly disposed of for us. Now our families can live and we can journey to Canada to be reunited. We owe you a great many thanks."

"You're welcome!" Cora beamed.

"Edler! Elder!" A small moleman jogged down an incline.

"What is it, Wesley?"

"The eastern sentry reports that the Dark Lord has mobilized his landboats towards Hogwarts with his entire army!"

"Wow…that was fast." The mole elder was surprised. "You baldies must have greatly angered him. For this, you have our admiration."

"Crap! He's heading towards Hogwarts! We need to get there first to warn them." Bridgit started running.

"No need to run. Our trains will easily win. We will even send you some of our warriors to help…but only the strong, brave ones without families."

Half of the mole population bowed to Bridgit and Cora.

"Our worthless bachelor lives are yours to make use of." They chorused.

"Wow…mole culture's kinda harsh on singles." Bridgit whistled.

"Lucky for us! All right, men! All aboard the Victorious Ass-Kicking Express!" Cora yelled, rounding a corner and catching sight of a magnificent subterranean train.

"For Snagthor! Honorable Politician of Debatable Zoning Laws!" The molemen gave their wussy battle cry.

Greatly confused, but along for the ride, Bridgit boarded the train behind them. And, with impressive G-force, the super-fast lightening train sped off into the darkness.

* * *

"Well, aren't you glad to be patched up so quickly? Good thing friends are always around when you need them." Harry made a snide comment at Ron and Hermione, who were now recovered.

The three sat in the virtually empty Gryffindor common room.

"Yes, yes, Harry. You're awesome. What would we do without you, besides have some fun?" Hermione muttered.

"This close." Ron cried quietly to himself.

"Now we can all get back to the way things used to be! You know… the three of us wandering around haphazardly dealing with monsters and stumbling upon the answers to mysteries." Harry laughed.

"Oh, that reminds me! I solved one of the mysteries last week, but I've been too busy to remember to gloat about it." Hermione snapped her fingers.

"That's the spirit! Gloat away, best-friend-Hermione!" Harry cheered.

"Yes. I've finally discovered the secret, sordid past of our new Defense-Against-the-Dark-Arts teacher."

"Really?"

"Oh, Ron. You were there, remember? When I happened to hack into the Dumbledore's Secrets mainframe?" Hermione prompted him.

"Well, what is it?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Oh yeah, that was good! Best secret ever." Ron giggled.

"Tell MEEEE!" Harry whined.

"All in good time. We need to find a teacher to tell this to!" Hermione leapt to her feet. "I'm sure they're obviously unaware of Dumbledore's overly-optemistic good nature in hiring her and don't know the true nature of the evil she has steeped us in, like a tea of malicious intent." Hermione narrowed her eyes, her beautifully-pruned eyebrows gracefully arching over her lashes.

They ran for a good five minutes and burst into Professor McGonagall's office.

"Professor McGonagall! I contain a secret that could destroy us all!" Hermione bellowed.

"Hmm?" She looked up from her _Motherly Weekly_ magazine and her magical knitting clattered to the floor.

"Professor McGonagall! Professor Summersong is-"

"Not now, Miss Grainger. I'm afraid I am entirely too busy to listen to your mammoth secret." She attempted to place a mobile into a fair-sized aquarium. _I'll show Madame Pomfrey…I'll be the best sea horse mom ever!_

"But-"

"Scoot!" She swept them away with a broom. "You too, Mr. Weasely!" She rapped him smartly on the bottom with her broom.

Ron squeaked with fright, dropped the cheese that he had been scarfing down back onto her desk and ran out the door.

"Stupid children. I hate them all."

The mobile snapped, crushed in her iron grip.

* * *

"Well, gang. I guess we have to solve it ourselves, then." Ron pondered aloud.

"For the love of God, please tell me!" Harry put his foot down.

"No time! We have to go confront her now!" Hermione hurried along.

"I hate you." Harry chased after her.

Ron's pants fell down.

* * *

"_There_ you are!" Hermione burst into Professor Summersong's office.

"Oh, hello children." She smiled at the three of them.

Ron, not having the time to fix the situation, had lost his pants a few meters before the office.

"I see you've forsaken pants, Mr. Weasely. I applaud your free spirit."

"Don't try and distract us with your clever words!" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "We know what you've been hiding!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She gave Hermione a level stare.

"Don't play games, Professor. We have all the evidence we need right here!" Harry pointed at Hermione.

"You'll hardly create a scandal by telling everyone of my penchant for an in-between class nosh. It's something all faculty is guilty of, save that stick in the mud, McGonagall."

"What?"

"Oh…that wasn't the secret? Well, then, if you're concerned about Smoky here," she opened her desk drawer to reveal a hellish fire demon, "I obtained him through purely legal means. Besides, you couldn't prove anything in a court of law."

"Enough of this! This isn't about any of the petty indiscretions you're guilty of now! This is about your heinous union with evil!" Hermione shouted.

"What?" Her eyes widened and then she relaxed. "I see."

"It was all in the records, everything. You just needed to know where to look and how to look. If you have the key information, it's quite simple to find, really."

"Bravo, Miss Grainer. But then again, what does this prove? What will you do now? Obviously the Headmaster trusts me, so why should you have anything to say on the matter?"

"Because Snape's evil!" Harry shouted.

"No, Harry, we have to stay focused!" Ron shoved his friend.

"Looking at the statistics, I realized that, since you are the defense against the dark arts teacher, you have an eighty percent chance of being evil. Taking that into account with the fact that I feel in my gut that something about you isn't quite right, I decided to investigate further. That's where I found out who you really are, Mrs. Tigerlily Riddle!"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Wait, what?" Ron gave Hermione a second glance.

"I thought you knew the secret, Ron." Harry shook his head.

"I forgot it. I was just playing along." Ron sobbed.

"Yes, now that I know the truth, I think you are too dangerous to remain here at Hogwarts. When I expose your secret, you shall, at the very least, be dismissed from the faculty." Hermione stood adamantly facing her teacher.

"Well, that could work." Summersong admitted. "But you're forgetting who I am. I am, after all, not an idiot."

With that, she severed a rope with a big knife she kept in a drawer. While the children were distracted by the falling Krayt dragon that had been suspended by the rope, she magically stole their wands. With a resounding crash, the skeleton landed right on top of the three meddling kids, its ribs serving as prison bars.

"Freedom!" Ron longingly wept.

"So now you see that your secret no longer holds the leverage you thought it did. Despite your above-average booksmarts you are still painfully naïve. Did you think I'd just be okay with your plan to expose my secret and surrender to you? What the hell is wrong with you?" She shook her head in disbelief.

"What's wrong with us? You're the one who uses sneaky tactics, like surprise." Harry complained.

"Yes. I'm quite horrible. Now the question the remains: what should I do with you? What should I, the former wife of Lord Voldemort, do with Harry Potter and his little friends?" She grinned deviously at them.

"W-what are going to do to us?" Ron whimpered.

"Now your true colours are showing. Dumbledore won't stand for this; he'll definitely fire you!"

"Dumbledore's busy with his own problems: namely morning sickness. I doubt he'd notice anyway. And even if he did, I could blame your unexplained disappearance on my dear ex-husband. You see, he still owes me spousal alimony. I couldn't think of a better way to collect. So, how shall I get rid of my little problems? Shall I drop you in this tank of acid, dissolving any trace of your physical presence, or shall I finally contribute to Hagrid's pumpkin patch? Would you prefer nothingness, or worms gnawing away at your flesh?"

"Worms! I'll take the worms." Harry piped up.

"No, dude. Take the acid." Ron hissed. "It's quick and painless."

"How is that quick and painless?"

"Both of you, shut up!" Hermione turned on them.

"Well, for such an indecisive bunch, I choose mystery death!" Summersong declared, rooting through a drawer. "Ah, here we are!" She pulled out a handgun.

"What's that?" Ron asked. "Does it bite?"

"Why don't you find out?" She leveled the pistol at him and pulled the trigger.

Harry and Hermione flinched as there was a loud POP! They turned in horror to behold Ron, looking as confused as he had before.

"I don't like this game anymore." Ron whimpered.

"I don't understand. Where's the blood?" Hermione turned him about, looking for exit wounds.

"There's your answer!" Harry pointed at the gun.

Confetti, streamers and a little flag that read 'BANG!' had come out from the muzzle. Summersong stood there, smiling and giggling in amusement.

"Oh ho ho! You should have seen the looks on your faces. 'Oh no! Ron's dead! Wahhh!' Oh, it was priceless!"

"I don't get it." Hermione felt like the walls were closing in.

"Oh, dears. Can't take a joke, can you? Although I suppose it was in poor taste." Her face mellowed. "But seriously, your concerns are unfounded. You see, I was very foolish when I married Tom . I married him out of rebellion against my parents because I was young and stupid, and he had a cool car. As it turned out, he was only after my inheritance and then I began to see who he really was. I managed to escape with my life, but I paid dearly for the mistakes I had made. And then, of course, once I left him he became this creepy snake guy. All my friends were like, 'Ew. What did you see in him?' I tried to explain that he didn't always look like that, but they didn't believe me." She finished with a pensive look on her face.

"Can we really believe in your ignorance?" Hermione felt doubtful.

"Well, if you can't believe in my horrible taste in men, then just look at your own. Seriously. I don't know why we do it to ourselves." Summersong sighed.

"Case in point." Hermione nodded.

"What just happened?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Besides, I've been in a protection program ever since. If you expose my true identity, it will only bring trouble to you since it's illegal to do so. I was actually surprised that, through your research, you hadn't found out that I was part of this program." She mused aloud.

"Well, actually, we just found your picture in a yearbook that said 'Best Couple'." Hermione confessed.

"Ah. I see. Well, then. I guess that's all. See you kids later!" She flounced cheerily from the room.

Several minutes passed.

"How do we get out?' Harry sighed.

"Do you think she'll come back?" Ron asked.

"No, Ron."

"Oh. Bugger."

* * *

"Now that Snape's gone, this dungeon is actually rather pleasant." Professor Binns commented airily.

Professors Binns, Flitwick, Hooch and Sprout were casually lounging around the dungeon while Mr. Flansberg tried to get his work done.

"I agree, although it smells vaguely of hotdogs." Hooch fanned herself lightly.

"Let's have a barbecue!" Flitwick squeaked.

"Right! I'll go and get my leftover hotdog loaf from the staff fridge. Then we can conjure a fire and have a mid-afternoon lunch." Madame Hooch bustled from the room to retrieve her low-grade cube of meat by-products.

"I enjoy a barbecue as much as the next guy, but don't you all have like, work, you need to be doing right now?" Mr. Flansberg tried to get rid of his unwanted guests.

"Oh, Paul. You really did miss out by not getting your doctorate in teachology. If you had, you'd know that you don't actually have to do any work." Professor Sprout giggled.

"Even _I_ knew that, and I've been dead for almost a hundred years." Professor Binns droned.

"Right…look, what I'm trying to subtly hint at is that I have this work I need to get done and I'd really appreciate it if you'd all just l-"

"Here it is!" Madame Hooch bounded into the room holding aloft a cube of mystery.

"Dear God, I can't tear my eyes away from it." Mr. Flansberg whispered in horror.

"I have that effect on people." She blushed.

"Righto! You know what would be smashing with that hotdog loaf, Paul?" Twigethula Sprout began.

"Real meat?"

"Frog legs! Why don't you check in the potions cupboard? I'm sure he must have some pickled frog's legs left over from the year." Professor Sprout pointed to the cupboard.

"Sure…why bother resisting." Mr. Flansberg muttered.

He began rooting through the cupboard while the intruders continued chatting gaily.

"Well, my daughter's just sent me an owl telling me that she's eloped with the Prime Minister. I must say that I wish she'd had a traditional ceremony like Consuela and I did. Call me old fashioned, but if it doesn't involve Satan, it isn't a proper marriage." Profressor Flitwick sighed.

"Yes. I can't even remember the last time we had a proper spell-casting session in a coven, naked and dancing under the moon." Hooch looked dreamily off into space.

"I miss those too." Said Professor Binns. "It gave me something to do at night."

"Well, the old ways are being lost to the flashy consumer side of magic." Professor Sprout chimed in. "Kids these days don't appreciate where the magic really comes from because of all the ready-mades out there. Instead of enchanting knitting needles themselves, they go out and buy a pair of magic needles. It's gotten to the point where none of them really know how to do any of the important stuff anymore. Do you really think any of our students except for Hermione would be able to figure out how to get and prepare their lacewings?"

"In my day, we had to make our own wands. Nothing against Ollivander's, but the bond you had with something you made with your bare hands was more spiritual and you appreciated and loved it that much more." Binns remembered the good old days.

"When I was but a child, the only way to get a faster broom was to lose weight, shave off all your hair and fly naked." Madame Hooch announced proudly.

"Those were the best years of woman's quidditch." Binns smiled.

"I must admit that I don't hate this convenient, disposable generation, but it does make me feel concerned for the children. They don't really have anything that they can be that proud of. They've never really experienced that feeling of satisfaction and independence." Professor Sprout murmured.

"Yeah…because they sure don't get it from our classes!" Flitwick cracked open his razor sharp wit.

"Har har har har!" Everyone laughed.

"Hey! This drawer has a false bottom!" Mr. Flasberg pulled it all the way out.

"Oh! Do take a look. We'd all love to have some dirt on that non-murdering Severus." Flitwick smiled with glee.

"Well, here goes." Mr. Flansberg opened the secret compartment and pulled out a dusty old roll of parchment.

"What is it, Paul?" Hooch craned her neck to see.

Mr. Flansberg unrolled it and squinted at the spidery, fading writing.

"As far as I can make out, it says: 'Oh seeker of knowledge, thou hast come to thine own reward! I impart to thee my staff of ultimate wisdom that canst reveal to thee the answer to the question resting within thy heavy heart."

"Wow! That sounds like something exciting and or important that's happening to us! Usually nothing happens to us when we sit around on our asses throughout the school year." Hooch commented.

"Go on Paul!" Professor Flitwick excitedly prompted him to continue.

"Uhh, let's see…But first, thou must take a journey through the catacombs of this castle and thus through thine own soul. First, thou must prove thyself worthy by deciphering my riddle. For, ultimate knowledge and power cannot be given to the stupid and ignorant. Beginning at the great hall, you must-'"

There was a low rumbling and suddenly a loud explosion came from the area of the boiler room.

"Now what could that be? No one's gone in there since old man Filch died." Professor Flitwick wondered aloud.

"Do you think he left a pipe bomb to take us all with him?" Professor Sprout quaked in terror. "Bloody squib."

"I don't think he had the talent to do that." Mr. Flansberg calmed their fears.

The boiler room door burst open and Bridgit and Cora poured like a thick batter into the scene followed by a host of tiny, mole-shaped men in what would surely be the worst tasting pancakes ever.

"Guys! Guys! We've got trouble!" Cora yelled.

"I'll say. You've skipped quite a few of my classes." Mr. Flansberg looked cross.


	31. Sir Cadogan Comes Galloping Home

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Sir Cadogan Comes Galloping Home (You forgot about him, didn't you?...So did we)**

"How long has it been?" Harry moaned, sitting on the floor in his ribcage that imprisoned him.

"It must have been at least a week. I'm hungry." Ron whined.

"Well, according to the position of the sun outside, it has only been approximately an hour." Hermione huffed, giving the two a disapproving look.

"So hungry…" Ron moaned. " Vision fading."

"Ron, old chum, I hate to say it, but we may have to resort to cannibalism to survive." Harry quaked.

"Stop looking at me like that." Hermione, edged away from them, her every move followed by their hungry eyes.

"What ho and a dirty ho', awaaaaaay!" Sir Cadogan galloped into the room without a horse. "I have come to save you, young prince!"

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry demanded. "You would have actually been useful earlier when I was ambushed and attacked by Voldemort's agent!"

"What?" Sir Cadogan looked dumb…founded.

"I almost _died_! Sammy got injured and my new girlfriend did die!" Harry roared.

"I…I." Sir Cadogan looked completely stunned and aghast at this news.

"But you're here now, so you can make up for all that by helping us ou-"

"No, no…speak not, fair prince. I can see clearly and I know what I must do for my failure." He took a few steps towards the bone cage and took out his impressive sword.

"I HAVE FAILED YOUUUU!" He wept and screamed, plunging his own sword into his belly.

He collapsed to the ground with a few gurgles escaping his dying lips. Red oil paint poured from his side and gathered in a large puddle on the floor as his muscles began to convulse in his death throes.

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, Sweet Prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." He gasped, reaching out longingly at Harry's fading visage.

As he collapsed into a pile of death, his remains transformed into a ghastly mural of his corpse painted onto the floor for evermore.

Harry, Hermione and Ron stared at his regained picture form in horror.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Harry pulled on his hair.

"Why didn't he help us **before** he killed himself?" Asked Ron.

"I think the more important question is: can that be washed off the floor? Because if not, I don't think I want to take Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore…" Hermione shuddered.

"Okay, students, I think you've learned your lesson now." Professor Summersong finally returned to her classroom after grading a couple hundred papers with magic markers. "So I'll-" Her voice trailed off as she stared at the floor. "What is that?" She pointed. "Did you somehow manage to kill a painting from inside that cage without wands?"

"Well, we…" Ron tried to explain.

"That's impressive. I think I'll add a bonus ten percent to all of your marks. Yes, even yours, Mr. Weasely!" She offered this shred of hope to her tiny, tiny students.

"Does this mean I'm not failing anymore?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No. But Miss Grainger, this does mean that you have achieved your class goal of one hundred and ten percent. Congratulations."

"I can now die at peace." Hermione sighed dreamily.

"Well, before that I'd better get you out of here." She pushed her shoulder against one of the larger ribs and gave a mighty shove, causing the entire chest cavity to roll over and setting the captives free.

"Wow! You must be really strong!" Ron marveled.

"Yes. Yes I am." She felt it prudent not to mention that the old skeleton was actually quite light and could be lifted by most children over the age of twelve.

"Here are your wands back. You probably have homework or something that you need to be doing, so how's about you get the h-"

"Excuse me, is this where I might find one Harold James Potter or a Severus Juniper Snape?" A suave man with a warm voice and a friendly sweater vest entered the room with a pantomime knock.

"Who wants to know?" Professor Summersong, not trusting him, spoke up quickly.

"My name is Thomas Poppenbottom. I'm from the Ministry of Magical Adoption." He finished, clearly expecting this to make sense to someone.

"I'm Harry Potter. What is this all about?" Apparently it didn't.

"Well, we had a request put in some time ago by one Severus Juniper Snape. He was quite adamant that your current family was inadequate and provided ample proof of this fact. It was quite appalling, really, and we were surprised our muggle counterpart hadn't realized the gross abuse and neglect sooner." He seemed sincere. "Having brought this to our attention, Mr. Snape expressed his wish to become your adopted father. Where is he? It's really more according to protocol if I can interview both of you at the same time."

"What?" Harry couldn't get past the reeling sensation in his stomach. "Why?"

"Surely you aren't happy living with the Dursleys!" The man looked aghast. "This is your ticket out of that cupboard under the stairs."

"Don't play stupid with me! All of my post from the wizarding world was addressed to my cupboard under the stairs. You've known all along and haven't done a damn thing about it!" Harry shouted, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Besides, I already have a legal guardian: my godfather Sirius Black."

"Who is a wanted fugitive and murderer. I know you are still becoming acquainted with the wizarding world, Mr. Potter, but matters of blood are almost always deferred to. It was your mother's wish for you to live with your aunt and uncle. Were it not for the intervention of - really, where is Mr. Snape?"

Everyone looked uncomfortable.

"He's on his deathbed." Professor Summersong finally said.

"Ah. Well, in that case…" Mr. Poppenbottom tapped his robes with his wand and they changed from the odd sweater vest combination to a friendly, heartfelt set of more traditional, purple robes. "I'm Mr. Poppenbottom of the 'Make a Wish' Foundation. I was wondering if you, Mr. Potter, would grant a poor dying soul who hasn't known a moment's happiness his final, dying wish."

"What the hell?" Harry put his face into his palm.

"How could you make such an outlandish claim? Surely Professor Snape might have had at least _one_ moment of happiness!" Hermione demanded citation!

"I can prove it." Mr. Poppenbottom took out a small sphere. "Ever since signing away the rights to privacy back in '56, the Ministry has had leave to watch everyone at every moment of every day. Which we have. This is the entire life and times of Severus Snape, condensed for easy viewing." He tapped it with his wand and the show began.

* * *

The streaming images began with the untimely birth of a headless baby.

"I knew it was a mistake!" A man with stab wounds complained!

"Hi hiiiin!" Snape's mother whinnied.

"No, I knew it couldn't end well – what with my enchanted stab wounds and your horse face." He shook his head.

Snape's mother snorted and stamped her foot impatiently.

"I know you wanted a girl. I'm not quite sure what we can do about that."

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes.

"No, how about we compromise. We'll name him Severus due to his headless nature and then Juniper can be his _middle_ name. That way he'll be sort of like the girl you always wanted, only completely inadequate." Snape's father avoided subjecting his son to a sex transfiguration.

Snape's mother then ate her placenta and licked him clean.

* * *

Harry vomited silently out the corners of his mouth.

* * *

"I wish you wouldn't be so mean to me, brother Severus." A headless child whined. "It's bad enough that mother and father have yet to buy me a new head when you already have such a marginally functional one."

"Shut your hole, wanker!" Snape, about five years old, yelled at his brother.

"Awaaaaaugh!" Severedhead screamed.

"Shut it! You'll wake up Grandma Tentacalinda and Grandpa Tentaclese! You know what happened last time. Will you be quiet if I play catch with you in the main foyer?"

Severedhead stopped screaming and his torso bobbed up and down in agreement.

Relocating to the main foyer, the two were playing an amicable game of catch.

* * *

"Well, that doesn't look like suffering!" Hermione narrowed her eyes in concentration.

"Ah, you see, he _is_ starting to enjoy himself and were it not for what happens next, he would indeed have experienced a moment of happiness." Mr. Poppenbottom inclined his head darkly, the horrid scene reflecting off of his spectacles.

* * *

"Jesus boys, I told you to shut it or the puppy gets it!" Grandma Tentacalinda slithered down the stairs in nearsighted, half-awake oldness.

Waving her many tentacles from side to side in order to display her displeasure, she knocked over a kerosene lamp that spilled all over Snape.

"WhHJASKEHTJSKELHTGJKSH!" An even more hideous being, Tentaclese, squelched down the stairs.

He also waved his tentacles in displeasure, but was completely blind. His milky white eyes failed to see the giant flaming chalice, which tumbled over easily enough. Apparently having stab wounds and a horse face made you immune to child-proofing your house.

Snape was immediately engulfed in flames.

"Ahhhh!"

And though his parents bought him a new head as a get-well-soon present as he recovered from fifth degree burns, he could only feel sadness at its ugliness. This, of course, had been the money his parents were saving up to buy Severedhead his own head, resulting in an irreparable rift between the two brothers.

* * *

"Why is this happening?" Ron sobbed.

"The rest of his childhood is pretty much the same. Harry, I know that Hogwart's is your bastion of sanity and not being beaten by your relatives, so I especially want to show this to you. For you see, Mr. Snape did not even have that."

* * *

"Uhh, could you please let me pass and not beat me up today? I have a head cold." Snape looked warily at James Potter and his posse of lemmings.

"I dunno if we can do that, Juniper." James crossed his arms and smiled bastardly at Snape. "You see, I promised these fine fellows a beating!"

* * *

"Blimey." Harry looked sadly on. "My Dad was an asshole."

* * *

"Stop!" Lily Evans came in between Snape and James. "Don't hurt him! He has secretly delicate feelings and you have no idea how this could come back to haunt you later in future generations."

"It's okay, baby. I have a car!" James explained.

"Oh, wow! I never saw it from that angle before." Lily looked pensive.

"How's about you and me, sugarcakes?" James pointed at himself with both thumbs while doing a violent pelvic thrust.

"Does this answer your question?" Lily knelt down behind Snape.

"It sure does!" James pushed Snape, who tripped over Lily and lay sprawled on the ground.

"Oh, I can't stand to see him like this!" Lily fled the scene, running like a girl.

"You heard her boys!" James took up his broom.

Everyone followed suit and beat Snape to death with their broomsticks. He was only resuscitated by a passing house elf.

"Why didn't you let me die?" Snape sobbed.

"We would have exceeded our yearly student death quota." The house elf squeaked cheerfully.

* * *

"There's much more, but I won't bore you with the details. The point I wanted to make, Mr. Potter, is that despite how crappy your life is, Mr. Snape never had the luxury of safety and love that you did. And so, on behalf of his unheard plea, I am begging you to grant his last wish and sign this form," it appeared floating in mid-air, "with your blood and become his one and only son."

Everyone looked at him expectantly, their eyes moist with sorrow and sympathy.

"No."

"Harry!" Hermione was appalled.

"What? If you like him so much, you become his daughter!" Harry snapped.

"I'm not an orphan!" Hermoine put her hands on her hips.

"What about you, Ron? Your parents have so many kids – surely they wouldn't miss you." Harry turned to his friend.

"Sorry, Harry. Snape asked for you. It's his dying wish." Ron sniffed, almost moved to tears.

"How about you professor? I'll bet if you kissed him, having been touched by a g-g-g-girl will give him his last moment of happiness." Harry prompted Professor Summersong.

"No…he doesn't seem to like human contact. Besides, due to our history, we would both find it repellant." She shook her head.

"No way! Why should I suffer because he wants to be happy! He's made my life miserable and I don't even like him. This is stupid!" Harry stamped his foot. "It's not my fault my parents were bastards – why should I shoulder the weight of their bad choices?"

"Look, kid, the Magical Make a Wish Foundation isn't nearly as successful as its muggle counter-part, what with most people being able to perform magic and all. I need this. I _really_ need this or our organization will have to fold. So, I'm willing to make an illegal deal: if you sign this form for someone who will be dead in a matter of days, I will give you your parents' spy spheres!"

"You should give them to me anyway!" Harry got furious, his glasses steaming up. "If you and the wizarding world value blood so much."

"Well, I won't. Sign it." Mr. Poppenbottom wouldn't budge.

"Fine, you asshole!" Harry stabbed his finger with a quill and signed the document.

"Excellent!" The man tossed Harry the spheres.

"You had this planned from the beginning!" Harry was outraged.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do?" And Mr. Poppenbottom left, never to be seen again.

"Well, at least you have your parents' spheres." Ron prompted Harry into being less outraged.

"I suppose." Harry grumped.

"Why don't we leave Mr. Potter alone and he can spend some time enjoying getting to know his parents better." Professor Summersong forcefully ushered Ron and Hermione from the room.

Harry held the spheres pensively in his hands, and then tapped them both at once.

"Oh, James!" There was heavy breathing.

"Lily!" James gasped.

"Oh God, why?" Harry screamed, throwing them against the wall where they shattered into a million pieces.

Shaking and fighting back the urge to vomit again, he took out his childhood checklist for non-orphans and checked one off. He then walked out to join his friends.

"How was it, Harry?" Ron asked, giving a thumbs up.

"Let us never speak of this again." He intoned darkly.

"Masters, masters!" A house elf scurried up to them before anymore questions could be asked. "There is a meeting of most importance in the Great Hall. Master Dumbledore requests that everyone be there!" Bassey shouted, the very floors shaking from the frequency of his voluptuous velvety chocolate voice.

"What could this be about?" Summersong wondered aloud.

"It must be a surprise birthday to make up for all of the birthday parties they had for Harry but not for any of the other characters." Ron mused aloud.

"Yay! Cake!" Hermione ran out the door.

"Wait for me! I'm too poor to know what cake tastes like!" Ron wailed.

"I'm too hated to know what cake tastes like." Harry said softly.

"Stiff upper lip, Mr. Potter. Let's go see what the headmaster has to say." Summersong offered kindly.

* * *

Everything in the Great Hall was abuzz with nervous chatter as the entire staff and student body waited for Dumbledore to announce the reason for this unprecedented gathering.

A hush fell over the crowd in a wave of silence as the headmaster stood to his full height, his silver beard glistening in the fake lighting.

"I know that all of you are wondering why we are all here right now." He began, his voice conveying only power and strength instead of senility.

"The truth is that in a very short while, Hogwart's will soon be under siege," an angry buzz of chatter swelled at that, "by Voldemort's armies."

The room went deathly silent. Then everything erupted into chaos.

Students were running all over the place, not sure of where to go in such a crisis, but not able to stay still. Many screamed and a few even cried while others just sat down and hugged their knees in silent prayer. One first year even wet himself.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore roared, frightening everyone into silence again. "Do not panic. That is the worst thing that can happen right now. Evacuation via floo powder will begin immediately starting with the first years and ending with the seventh years. Please line up according to house and class, and your Head of House Professor shall lead you back to your common room, where your Head Boy and Head Girl will send you all home. Please cooperate and evacuate in an organized and calm fashion and I promise you that you will all be able to get home before they arrive." Dumbledore finished. "I wish you all the best of luck and hope that we shall meet again." He offered his farewell as the first years shuffled nervously out in tow behind a professor.

"Any remaining professors are asked to please set traps and obstacles in a perimeter around the castle to slow the advance of Voldemort's armies to buy us some time to ensure full evacuation."

Bridgit and Cora, standing off the side, approached Dumbeldore as his plans were laid out.

"Sir, do you really think that we'll be able to get them all out before the armies arrive?" Cora asked incredulously.

"Very sharp of you, Miss Willowstaff." Dumbledore smiled bitterly. "In truth, we'll be lucky if we're even up to the fourth years by the time they get here. Myself and the other professors will have to do our best to buy time. Yourself, Miss Firecatcher, Mr. Starsinger and Miss Hellstorm are under no obligation to remain here. If you take part in the evacuation, I recommend taking the floo to the Canadian embassy, and transport home from there can be arranged by the government officials." Dumbledore started ushering them towards the line that was now forming.

"I never really liked floo powder." Bridgit looked like she was saying something profound. "It gets stuck up your nose." She disappointed everyone's expectations.

"Yeah! We're not running!" Cora agreed.

"By your own admission, we're not going to make it out on time anyway." Sammy pointed out. "So we might as well be useful in some way to help others escape."

"Besides, how could we face our own government after ditching our mission to help protect the school?" Reagan smiled.

"You're damn fools," Dumbledore shook his head, "but you shall be remembered fondly for it."

"Headmaster!" Harry jogged up to the teacher's podium followed by Ron and Hermione. "No one really loves me, so I have nothing to lose by staying here and fighting."

"Lots of people love us, but we're going to stay on the principle of the matter." Hermione smiled.

Ron kept on mentally telling himself that not breaking up with Hermione and staying to fight to the death wasn't as bad as it sounded.

"Sure. Letting you guys solve the problem hasn't failed me so far…" Dumbledore mused.

"But last year, it ended up with a student getting killed!" Ron protested.

"So what? For his first five years at Hogwart's no one even knew he existed. Besides, students die here all the time." He chuckled.

"But I thought you said no student has ever died here!" Ron looked horrified.

"Silly Mr. Weasely. I said that no student has ever _not_ died here. Really, you need to pay more attention."

"That's what she said." McGonagall snickered as she breezed by.

"Right then. To the war room."

"You guys have a war room?" Sammy was impressed.

"Not really. It's just the teacher's lounge. It goes by many names."

* * *

"I have dire news, everyone: my crystal ball has informed me that…Voldemort rides to castle Hogwarts upon boats that can sail over land as though it were water." Professer Trelawney held up her crystal ball. "Truly, he is more powerful than we had feared."`

"_We_ told you that!" Cora snapped.

"Yes, I know you did." Trelawney smiled at her crystal ball, which was conveniently being held in front of Bridgit and Cora.

"No! It was us!" Bridgit stamped her foot.

"Hush, my pet, the normals can't hear and I'll look like I'm crazily talking to myself." She stuck it in a baby sling she was wearing. "I'm the best mom ever." She congratulated herself.

"I can't believe Voldemort's been routing through the garbage and stealing my precious 'too crazy' ideas. Who knows what other evils he may have stolen and then created?" Dumbledore muttered.

"We need a strategy." Sammy spoke up, tired of wasting time.

The Hogwarts staff, foreign exchange students, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gathered in the teacher's lounge as they discussed their battle plans. The less important characters had vanished into the oblivion of wordless not-being-described.

"Ah, yes. I knew I was forgetting something. Who was it that I appointed to be emergency war general again?" Dumbledore asked of all the assembled staff.

Everyone went silent and cast sad, sad looks at Trelawney.

"You're kidding, right?" Dumbledore looked horrified.

"You were busy having a nosh with Madame Rosemerta when you were filling out that particular position." McGonagall seethed.

"Righto! This is a battle of legendary importance, therefore we should let fate decide the parts we are to play. I have written everyone's name down on a scrap of paper and placed them in this hat." Trelawney began, clearly savoring the drama, importance and attention.

"Help me! I've been kidnapped." The sorting hat cried.

"SNAKE!" Trelawney shrieked, and punched the hat.

"Furthermore, the hat will randomly sort us into battle squadrons. I shall first select those who will battle the dementors that will inevitably be in Voldemort's army. This is order to keep them away from Harry and any other children with horrible, horrible lives that should never have been."

Harry looked exceedingly sad, especially since the Make A Wish Foundation and his parent's spy spheres had made this situation worse.

"I am the sorting hat and I like to rhyme. I like to rhyme I do it all the time." The sorting hat began, at a loss for a good poem. He said this and spat out a few pieces of paper.

"Bridgit, Cora and the moleman division will look after the dementors."

"All right! We're in the same group!" Bridgit and Cora gave each other a mighty bounce clap.

"You guys! This isn't like picking teams for dodgeball!" Sammy hissed.

"Deatheaters are deadly, they smell like blight, these are the people they will have to fight." The hat spat out some more paper.

"The group assigned to dealing with Deatheaters shall consist of Dumbledore, Sammy and Reagan."

"It's like winning the lottery…of death." Reagan sighed.

"My crystal ball tells me that Voldemort has risen an army of the undead, so we shall dedicate a division to the elimination of these crimes against nature." Trelawney explained.

"Zombies are smelly, zombies are fun. After you kill them your job will be done." The hat was clearly not trying anymore.

"Summersong, McGonagall and Trelawney- oh! That's me! Hey guys! We're in the same group." Trelawney smiled as Professer Summersong and Professor McGonagall flinched.

"Harry Potter has a bolt-shaped scar, Voldemort hasn't killed him thusfar. Let's keep it that way or there won't be anymore sequals…guitar."

"And the people in charge of guarding Harry are: Ron, Hermione and Harry. Good luck, guys! Try to keep him alive."

"Everyone left over will form our last line of defense." Trelawney rescued them from oblivion by speaking their names aloud. "So that is: Hagrid, Flitwick, Sprout, Hooch, Binns and Flansberg."

"I don't know magic! And I'm an American. Maybe I should just leave." Mr. Flansberg was aghast at his cannon fodder status.

"Oh no you don't! Ever since you started socializing with us, important things have happened. People have been paying attention to us more and we found that map to the ultimate staff of knowledge." Professor Sprout held him back.

"Yeah, but then we got sidetracked with this stuff, you said the map didn't matter anyway and then used it as tinder to light the barbecue." Mr. Flansberg snapped.

"That's not important! What really matters is that you're good luck. Trust me on this; I'm a charms teacher." Flitwick winked.

"I hate you."

"And Madame Pomfrey shall act as the lone medic." Trelawney finished.

"This was rigged! I want a recount." Madame Pomfrey objected, eager for some bloodshed.

"Hold the phone, everyone!" A gravelly, barely-human voice hissed from the doorway.

Everyone turned to behold Neville Longbottom and some kind of hideous monster.

"Dear God! Voldemort has unleashed a mutant and it's taken Neville hostage!" Bridgit screamed.

"Umm…this is my grandmum." Neville hastily introduced her.

"Pleased to meet you, gak!" She waved a pincer in greeting.

"What are you?" Sammy asked in barely-hidden revulsion.

"I get that a lot. I am half Klingon and half praying mantis." She gestured to her battle armor. "I invented British cuisine, although back in my day it had a lot more blood in it. Kids these days…so squeamish. Right Neville?" She hit him with her pincer.

"Yes ma'am!" Neville cried on the inside.

"Oh, dear God. Neville…I didn't know. I'm so sorry for saying all those things behind your back." Ron apologized. "Clearly your night terrors are justified."

"You should have seen grandpa." Neville shuddered.

"To what do we owe this honor?" Dumbledore courteously asked.

"I'm here for parent-teacher interviews." She explained.

"I'm sorry, what? That was months ago. And we're kind of in the middle of something right now." Dumbledore said, somewhat crossly.

"I couldn't come before, being busy locked in a blood feud with the McMuffin clan. But now those p'taq are no more and the mighty Praying Klingon clan is victorious! Seeing that my calendar was now free, I decided to come." She explained.

"Sorry you had to come this way for nothing," McGonagall began, mouth pressed into a thin line and clearly not sorry. "but-"

"Shut your hole, woman! I am aware of your impending doom. We have come to fight!" Neville's grandmother roared.

"Ah. I see. Well…you can go with Bridgit, Cora and their barely-human army." Dumbledore gestured towards them.

"AWESOME!" Cora's eyes shone with excitement.

"Can I go now, grams?" Neville whined.

"NO! You must join us in glorious battle so that you can both become a man and die with honor."

"Okay…"

"Can I have a pointy sword thing too?" Cora asked, on the tips of her toes.

"It is called a Bat'leth and if you prove yourself in battle, puny human, I shall give you mine."

"AWESOME!" She repeated herself.

"See grandson? This human realizes that today is a good day to die."

"I hate deathday." Bridgit muttered.

THUMP!

A dull, hollow, wooden sound echoed throughout the castle.

"What was that?" Professor Summersong whirled around.

"I believe they are here." Mr. Flansberg gestured out the window to a thick mainmast.

"And so it begins." Dumbledore said quietly.

"Battle stations, awaaaaaay!" Trelawney ran out the door.


	32. War Games

**Chapter Twenty-nine: War Games**

Having disembarked from the landboats, Voldemort's army took formation and attempted to storm the castle. Held temporarily at bay by the magical ensnarements, the forces of good had enough time to get their asses out the door. In the lead, a phalanx of dementors glided toward them.

"Dementor squad! Attack!" Trelawney yelled.

Bridgit, Cora, Neville, Grams and the mole army charged toward the dementors as a dull chill began to creep through their bones. Neville collapsed almost immediately, writhing and screaming the names of his grandparents in terror. Bridgit and Cora slowed a little, but were able to continue. Both were unable to tell if the mole army or Neville's grandmother were being affected at all.

"She's so cool." Cora sighed, watching Grandmother Longbottom slash at any dementors that tried to fly away.

With the mole army rendered useless by the dementors hovering just out of reach, Bridgit and Cora made a snap decision.

"Okay, Bridgit! It's time to use our super special awesome new spell!" Cora shouted, beginning formation.

"You mean the one we started inventing after the craft scissors spell?" Bridgit asked, also entering formation.

"You know it! _Ichi_!" Cora and Bridgit stamped their right foot.

"_Ni_!" They stamped their left foot.

"_San_!" They crossed their arms over their chests, hands in fists.

"_Shinigamiiiiiii_!" They shouted as one, extending their arms above their heads.

Gigantic, ghostly limbs projected from Bridgit and Cora's real hands. They clenched into gargantuan fists of crushing, and thus the two began to remotely pummel the grounded dementors to death.

"Hooray-oh…ohhhhh." The mole people's rejoice was cut short.

Being slaughtered on the ground, the dementors took flight, hovering just out of reach of the giant hands, and continued onward towards the rest of the forces of good.

"Crap! We can't screw up our job!" Bridgit roared.

"We'll have to finish them the old fashioned way!" Cora agreed, swiftly changing tactics.

"_Expecto patronus_!" Bridgit unleashed her shiny, silver butterfly patronus.

"_Expecto patronus_!" Cora totally copied her and unleashed a silver bat.

The silver ghosts began herding the dementors back towards the ground, although not very neatly. The ground forces, consisting of Neville's grandmother and the mole army picked off whatever dementor they could reach.

"Ugh…there's too many of them." Bridgit growled.

"Our spell is only keeping them in one area, but that's all. Most of them aren't getting killed." Cora complained.

"Well, what now?"

* * *

Elsewhere at the Battle of Howarts, zombies were lurching forward slowly, forming the next advancing rank. Most of the zombies didn't appear to have been dead for very long and suspicious tattoos seemed to confirm everyone's suspicions that Voldemort had capriciously decided to murder half of his army in order to death-proof them. Truly his logical reasoning was terrifying.

"Ew! Zombie patrol! Go get rid of them!" Trelawney wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"That's the three of us. Yourself included." McGonagall scathingly informed their crappy general.

"Oh bugger." Trelawney sighed.

"Well, ladies. Let's not chat all day!" Professor Summersong ran past them, whipping out her wand.

Professor Summersong began unleashing a rain of fire upon all of the zombies she could reach. Unlike the living, burning zombies did not smell vaguely of hotdogs.

Professor McGonagall, deciding to go with her strong point, began to transfigure the zombies into an easier target. Inexplicably, they were all becoming Ron.

"_AVADA KADAVRAAAAI!_" She screeched, spittle and hatred flying from her face.

Professor Summersong, understandably, took pause from her own grisly endeavors to view the pile of Rons, gazing up at the sky with empty eyes and mouths slightly agape.

"…M-Minnerva?" She cautiously attempted to broach the subject.

"WHAT?" She whirled around, a barely-contained manic look in her eyes.

"Is it really necessary to-"

"YES! You can't kill zombies, thus you have to transfigure them into something that is easily dispatched. It's very difficult work." Her pupils were barely pinpricks in the midst of her crazed eyes.

"W-wouldn't it just be easier…and less of an unspeakable spectacle… to transfigure them into…rocks or…or wood or something like that?" Professor Summersong hesitantly ventured.

"I DON'T TELL YOU HOW TO DO YOUR JOB!" Professor Summersong screamed and suddenly killed a Ron who had snuck up behind the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Okay then." Professor Summersong offered faintly, secretly pleased that she hadn't soiled herself. "I'll just continue, then."

"Who is she to criticize me? It's not like transfiguration's very useful in battle! That wench…she best watch herself. Besides, I'm doing more to help than drunky over there." Professor McGonagall muttered angrily to herself as she killed more Rons, casting a hostile gaze toward Trelawney.

"Magic mirror in my hand, please tell me what I should do." Professor Trelawney spoke to a hand mirror in her mistiest voice.

"You are a hard-worker and are respected by those around you." The mirror answered.

"Yes, I know that, I'm truly awesome. I was however, asking for some practical advice."

"May bees make no honey." The mirror answered wisely.

"I see!" She smiled, then began hitting the nearest zombies with her mirror.

Professor Summersong's fire spells were relatively effective, as many zombies were apparently extremely flammable. They ran about, spreading the fire and even burned several Rons to death. This greatly enraged McGonagall.

"KEEP YOUR FIRE AWAY FROM MY RONS!" She yelled.

"I'll do my best." Professor Summersong considered hiding.

McGonagall, no longer having the presence of mind to cast the killing curse in her rage, stabbed the nearest Ron in the forehead with her wand. He collapsed in a twitching heap, foaming at the mouth.

* * *

The real Ron, watching from a safe distance, felt rather faint.

"Blimey." He whispered as he watched himself being murdered again and again. "I wonder what I did to her."

Harry and Hermione put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and tried to shield him from her view.

* * *

"This is for dotting the i's in your essays to close so they look like l's and are hard to read!" McGonagal screamed, stabbing another Ron with her wand. "And this is for handing in your papers at the last possible moment!" She killed another Ron. "This is for always leaving eraser shavings on your desk. We use Quills, it's CLEARLY ON PURPOSE!" Abandoning her wand, she used her bare hands to snap his neck.

Taking a moment to survey both McGonagal's murder fantasy spree and Trlawney's ineffectiveness, Professor Summersong let out a haunted sigh. "This is pointless! We need a strategy to clear these out of the way for the others."

"What we need are stronger fire spells." Professor McGonagall shouted back. "Bitch." She added under her breath. "I'm a little occupied at the moment."

"That you are…Wait, that's it!" Professor Summersong's eyes widened as an idea entered her brain.

Abandoning her offensive, she ran up to Professor Trelawney and grabbed her shirt collar. Taking hold with both hands, she flung open Trelawney's robes.

"Tigerlily!" She shrieked. "I know I'm irresistible, but this is hardly the time."

"Oh, shut up you old bint." Professor Summersong said crossly, removing all of the bottles of vodka sewn into Trelawney's robes.

"I'm only thirty four and a half!" She shrieked, not even sure that that was her real age.

Next, Professor Summersong stepped on the hem of McGonagall's robes and ripped off half the skirt.

"What the hell?" McGonagall demanded, twitching her bloody wand that she had retrieved from the face of one of the dead Rons.

"No time for pleasantries, ladies." Professor Summersong gave a fierce smile and grew a pair. "Keep the zombies off me and I promise we'll have this problem solved soon enough."

* * *

Dumbledore, Sammy and Reaganle were crouching behind a hedge in order to conceal themselves from the encroaching army.

"Well, looks like their plan went to hell. Quick, while the zombies are distracted trying to kill those three, we can break through their ranks and make it to the Deatheaters!" Dumbledore shouted, taking off at a dead run and making a mental note to force McGonagall to have another psychological evaluation.

"Right!" Sammy and Reagan followed, trying to ignore the Ron carnage as they raced past the zombie battlefield.

"For the stude~nts!" Dumbledore screamed his battle cry, spittle flying in all directions as his wildly roving eyes burned an angry red.

"The crap-?" Sammy began.

It was then that everyone learned why Voldemort pissed his pants at the mere mention of Dumbledore. Being the closest, Sammy and Reagan could see the most. What they could make out through a solid red mist were limbs flying everywhere and the horrible screams of the damned. Reagan and Sammy soon realized what their part of the mission was as a few lucky Deatheaters managed to stagger into view. Looking dazed and utterly shell-shocked, they didn't even flinch as Sammy killed them.

"Sammy!" Reagan scolded her. "You killed them?"

"No, Reagan. They were already dead."

* * *

"Wow. I sure am good at protecting myself." Harry mused, trying to distract Ron.

Righto." Ron smiled happily. It worked like a charm.

"C'mon guys! If we're going to do our part, we have to go hide somewhere." Hermione snapped.

"No." Harry said suddenly. "No hiding for Mr. Potter."

"I don't know…it kind of sounds like a good idea." Ron admitted, still shaking from witnessing the murders.

"Well, all I know is that Voldemort is after me, he killed my parents and he's really evil. You two can stay here, but I have to divert his attention and hopefully lead him away from the castle to buy the evacuation and the battle efforts more time."

"Okay. Have fun, mate." Ron offered his farewell.

"Oh, Harry! That was wonderful. You _do_ understand. We'll go with you." Hermione pulled Ron along after her.

"Whyyyyy?" Ron wailed, trailing behind.

_Ive got to find Voldemort! I've got to find Voldemort!_ Harry mentally repeated his mantra as he ran past various fighting segments.

"Well, found me you have, Mr. Potter." Voldemort suddenly loomed before the young teenage hero, where Harry could have sworn before there was absolutely nothing.

"Voldemort!" Harry revealed his shock and rage, pulling out his wand.

Smiling coolly and sporting a samurai-esque helmet, mounted upon which was what appeared to be the stuffed corpse of Nagini, Voldemort seemed the every essence of ease.

"Oh, no no no. That won't do at all. You see, I'm not the one you're going to fight right now. Now is the time for you to meet the newest member of my family: Number ONE! Go, Harrmione!" Voldemort boomed.

Hermione and Ron, stupefied by the sight of Voldemort froze in their tracks. Harry gripped his wand tightly, ready for whatever the hell a Harrmione was.

"BLAAAAAAAAAAAAA_ a male platypus has a poisonous spur on its hind legs that can poison a full grown dog_!" An androgenous being stepped in front of Voldemort.

Harry gasped and Hermione and Ron looked like they might faint. Before them was a horrible crime against nature that should never have been.

The person stood five foot seven and possessed an unruly black afro, horrendous teeth that jutted out in all directions, thick-rimmed glasses and delicate feelings. Turning slightly to the side, they could also see a snake tail protruding from a hole in the being's pants. Voldemort noticed their stares.

"I see you noticed the modification I made on Dumbledore's crazy plan #3957. It's like I always say: you can never have enough snakes." He beamed.

"What…what have you done?" Harry asked in utter befuddlement.

"What Dumbledore never had the balls to do! I have created the ultimate student by combining your DNA with that of Miss Grainger's. You see before you the result: Harrmione. I suppose in a sick kind of way, it's like your horrid love child." Voldemort laughed. "Only it has been trained to kill you."

"BLAAAAAAAAAAA _Although bats are more difficult to sheer than sheep because it is hard keeping a hold of them, their wool, when knitted into a wig, is a cure for baldness_." Harrmione blatantly plagiarized the _Wizardology_ book.

Lightning bolts sprang from its fingers and it was all Harry, Hermione and Ron could do to keep from getting hit.

"This is impossible! It has my abilities with magic and Hermione's knowledge of everything." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"_And_ it has a lightening-shaped birthmark on its ass!" Voldemort crowed. "Feel like begging for mercy?"

"We'll figure this out!" Hermione said resolutely.

"Quickly, Hermione! If we work together – with magic – we can overpower it!" Harry shouted.

In a two-pronged attack, Harry and Hermione charged at Harrmione and cast two spells.

"_Expelliarimus_!" Hermione shouted at the same time as Harry.

Harrmione simply jumped backwards and Harry and Hermione ultimately disarmed each other.

"Damn it!" Harry pounded his fist into the ground and reached for his wand.

"Hey, wait a minute! How come my DNA wasn't included in this monstrosity? Uhh…sir… I'm part of the team too!" Ron demanded to know the answer for his exclusion.

"Dumbledore's notes clearly stated that you contribute nothing to the team and the only time you do, it's because Harry or Hermione consciously holds back so you can feel good about yourself." Voldemort laughed. "Such big dreams for a little Weaseley."

"That's not true, Ron!" Hermione shouted, retrieving her wand.

"Yeah, buddy. If you weren't there to cheer us on, there's no telling what might have happened." Harry agreed.

"BLAAAAAAA." Harrmione agreed. "_A turtle is capable of breathing through its anus_."

Harry and Hermione were thrown back by an invisible shock wave, slamming painfully into trees. Harrmione's incessant knowledge was certainly an irritating way to cast spells.

"I'll save you!" Ron shouted. "_Expelliarimus_!" He cast the spell, holding his wand backwards, into himself.

He fell over, his wand flying from his hand.

"Alright, Harrmione! If you're really part me, you'll spiral into a terrible depression if you can't answer a question!" Hermione stood, hands on her hips.

"Blaaa." Harrmione looked warily at her.

"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?" Hermione called out her question.

Harrmione didn't even hesitate.

"_The Adobe sound system allows crystal-clear surround sound in movie theatres across the nation to enhance the audience's viewing pleasure_."

A sonnicboom flew at Harry and Hermione, knocking them off their feet again and causing their ears to ring.

"This is no good!" Harry yelled over the noise only he could hear. "It has both of our strengths, but none of our weaknesses!"

"What shall we do?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't say that it has no weaknesses, and I shall expose them!" Ron boldly stood before Harrmione.

"No, Ron, don't do it!" Harry yelled.

"Voldemort wasn't lying. You really are useless in battle. Don't die, I still love you!" Hermione reached out for him.

"His weakness is the same one that was your undoing last time, You-Know-Who." Ron announced.

"Ho? And what would that be, weasel-boy?" Voldemort raised a bump of muscle that would be a normal person's eyebrow.

"LOVE!" Ron spread his arms open. "Harrmione – by the mere fact that you are a combination of Harry and Hermione, my charms should be irresistible to you, as a friend and/or love interest."

"Blaaa." Harrmione said softly.

"That's right." Ron held his arms open. "Come to me."

"This is asenine!" Voldemort howled. "My Harrmione doesn't need love, which is why I never provided any."

"That's not true! Everyone needs love, even Hagrid!" Hermione shouted defiantly.

"BLAAAAAAAA!" Harrmione wept, throwing itself into Ron's arms.

"There, there. Everything's going to be okay…after the stabbing." Ron patted the being and then stabbed it in the back with a knife.

"AGHHHHHH!" Harrmione screamed.

"Don't worry. It'll only hurt a little while longer." Ron continued stabbing it until it died.

"Tch! Love. It always comes back to bite me in the ass." Voldemort growled. "You may have killed what I will call my third-greatest creation, but now my wrath is upon you, Weasel-child! _Avada Kadavraaaaa!_"

A green jet of light rippled through the air, heading straight for Ron. It looked like the foreshadowing of the earlier Ron massacre was about to come to fruition. Ron's eyes went wide as the light hit him in the chest. However, instead of passing through him, the light bounced off of some unseen barrier and reflected straight into Hermione, who was running toward him with her hand outstretched in loving concern. Striking her in the face, the killing curse passed straight through and her bright, intelligent eyes suddenly went glassy and blank. Her legs buckled, and she toppled forward, suddenly lacking the daily grace she had always shown. Coming to a stop on the ground, she didn't move.

"Hermione?" Ron looked in confusion at her still form and unseeing eyes.

"HERMIONE!" Harry screamed.

"Hermione." Ron collapsed next to her, supporting her head and holding her hand in shock. "I don't understand. Harry, what happened?"

"She's dead." Harry moaned, feeling sick.

"But…I thought children were protected by angels." Ron looked down into the face of his fallen love.

"But Ron," Harry turned to his best friend, giving him a sympathetic and pained look, "Hermione didn't believe in angels." He finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

"NOOOOOOOOOO! Hermione, why?" Ron yelled, tears streaming down his face.

Hermione, usually the first one with an answer to any question, gave no reply.

Hermione Lucidity Diligence Grainger was dead.

* * *

Flitwick, Hooch, Sprout, Binns and Flansberg sat atop the castle battlements watching the goings on from a pair of binoculars. So far the defensive line hadn't been needed, but it looked like it was only a matter of time before the zombies would get through. Dumbledore was making an impressive dent in the Deatheaters, but had now been encircled by a small group while the rest advanced.

"My, that Summersong certainly is a great little tart." Binns noticed her move against Trelawney. "That's right, ya saucey mare." He said oh so quietly.

"Holy crap! Did Dumbledore just rip that guy's head off?" Mr. Flansberg stared in disbelief through the left over magic binoculars. "I gotta see that again!" He rewound.

"Just a little closer, Mr. Wand. Then we can kill at will once again." Flitwick softly spoke to his magical device, longing for his serial killing days of yore. "Then their stirrups will be mine!" He screamed.

Everyone looked at him in alarm.

"Uhhh…you know. Those damn battle horses. Hehehehe?" He laughed nervously. _You're all next!_

"Oh. Where's Hagrid?" Hooch suddenly noticed his absence.

"I dunno. He was here a moment ago." Sprout looked around in confusion.

"It doesn't seem like him to leave just to wander off at a crucial moment like this." Mr. Flansberg muttered.

"Maybe he had to go to the lou. You living seem to do that an awful lot…not that I watch." Professor Binns suggested.

"Oh, that seems quite reasonable." Sprout nodded.

"A little _too_ reasonable." Mr. Flansberg looked through his magic binoculars again, scanning the field for Hagrid. "There he is! Wait. What the hell does he think he's doing?"

"Let me see!" Flitwick shoved him out of the way and stole his maginoculars. "He's right! It looks like Hagrid is opening the front doors."

"Why would he do that?" Madame Hooch squinted at the brown dot she assumed was Hagrid.

"Maybe he's going to help in the fight." Binns suggested.

"Oh, okay. That makes sense." Everyone was relieved.

"No, that doesn't make any sense at all!" Everyone but Mr. Flansberg. "There's got to be something wrong. I mean, he does everything Dumbledore tells him to like some giant, semi-human dog. Something must be wrong, otherwise he'd never abandon his post. We've got to stop him!"

"Okay!" Everyone instantly agreed.

"I can see why you're the supporting characters." Mr. Flansberg sighed in irritation.

They ran from the roof and down the many stairs, hoping to catch Hagrid in time.

* * *

"Are you sure about this? Not that we question your wisdom…just your concern for the lives of others." The nervous mole soldier sweated profusely.

"Do not be weak! It is an honor to be launched into the air to gloriously cut down our enemies while they remain complacent in their cowardice!" Neville's grandmother roared, being held, like several others, in the giant phantom limbs of Bridgit and Cora.

"Yeah, quit your whining!" Cora snapped, tossing him at the nearest dementor.

"I regret nothiiiiing!" The mole soldier cried as he hurtled through the air.

He smashed into a dementor and both plummeted to the ground. Then the stabbing began.

Neville's grandmother made no sound as she was launched through the air. She managed to cut down three dementors before landing heavily on the ground.

"SCY-therrrrr!" She howled.

"This was the best idea ever!" Cora laughed. "We have WAY more mole people than they have dementors. Even if we miss a couple of times and kill some of ours, we're guaranteed to win if they take down at least one apiece."

"Ummm, they can still hear you." Bridgit whispered to her friend.

"Not for long!" Cora chucked the next one. "At this rate, the dementors will be dead in no time!"

* * *

"Way to be useless, Tigerlily!" McGonagall was backing nervously away from hungry zombies and angry Rons. In the end, there had been too many Rons for her to slaughter at will and her fantasy had become a dark phantasm. She blamed it all on Summersong.

"I'm almost done! Just keep them off me a bit longer. Here, you can use Trelawney. I don't need her anymore." Professor Summersong shoved Trelawney away.

"Braiiiins." The zombies moaned, lurching forwards on stiff, undead legs.

_Great…what use is Trelawney? Wait…maybe if I sacrifice her to them, they'll be distracted long enough that Tigerlily can finish whatever it is she's scheming, behind me where I cannot see her._But then the horrible truth dawned on her.

They were after brains. Trelawney was useless as a distraction. She paused for a moment.

"So, I hear our headmaster's got one in the oven." Trelawney began, doing violent pelvic thrusts. "I always knew you'd make a good father."

"Oh, that is it, you Welsh cow!" McGonagall narrowed her eyes.

Zombies be damned!

She shoved Trelawney, who stumbled into the nearest zombie. He groaned and looked dully into her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry, I can't. I'm not able to marry, for I'm no longer pure." Trelawney swooned in his manly and slimy arms.

The zombie dropped her and continued shuffling forwards. Suddenly, a flaming bottle was thrown into the midst of them all. It was hit with a jet of fire and it suddenly enveloped all of the nearest zombies in a sizeable explosion. Many zombies were charred to the point of immobility. The rest picked themselves up and continued forwards.

"Here, Minnerva!" Professor Summersong called. "Behind this barricade! There's more of those special cocktails where that came from!"

"Right!" McGonagall leapt behind the barricade.

"What about Sybill? Where'd she go?" Professor Summersong looked around the field.

"She fell in battle." Professor McGonagall said between clenched teeth, lighting another cocktail and throwing it to where she had last seen Trelawney.

Fearing for her life as well, Professor Summersong said nothing and, out of her level of respect for Trelawney, didn't even offer a silent prayer. Except of thanks.

* * *

Sammy, Reagan and Dumbledore stood back to back to back, surrounded by Deatheaters.

"This is not looking good." Sammy muttered.

"We're alright so long as I can keep deflecting most of the spells." Reagan grunted, straining to keep his allies safe.

"You'll never take me alive! This one's for the children!" Dumbledore roared, blowing up more of them.

"Take it easy. Remember: you're fighting for two now." Sammy cautioned him.

"Shut your hole!" Dumbledore roared.

"Yes sir." Sammy whimpered.

And she resumed blocking spells with Reagan.

"I sure hope someone finishes their job soon and comes to help us." Reagan complained quietly.

* * *

"Hagrid? What's wrong?" Flitwick trotted up to the groundskeeper who was in the midst of raising the castle gates, much like a small, yappy dog.

Hagrid turned around quite abruptly and stepped on Professor Flitwick. Dazed, the professor lay on the ground staring up at the sky.

"Hagrid! You accidentally stepped on Flitwick again. Appologize!" Professor Sprout scolded him.

Hagrid raised his foot again, aiming for Sprout.

"I don't think it was an accident!" Mr. Flansberg yelled as he pulled Professor Sprout out of harm's way.

Hagrid's foot stomped to the ground and he regained his balance, glaring at them like an angry rhinoceros.

"What are you doing? It's us! Your friends." Professor Binns opened his arms in a peaceful gesture.

Hagrid, still glaring in a way unusual to him, took a swing at the ghostly educator. Only his feelings were harmed.

"Okay, so maybe we did ignore you up until two years ago, but c'mon! You were the groundskeeper. You can't expect us to hang out with you. That would be like…hanging out with Filch! God rest his soul." Professor Binns bowed his head.

Hagrid seemed like he wasn't able to comprehend what anyone had said to him. As though consumed by some unknown hatred of everything, he continued trying to pummel them with his big, beefy, dinner plate-sized hands.

"Soon yours shall fall to the Dark Lord." Hagrid's beard bounced up and down as speech exited the mouth area.

"Why Hagrid? Why have you turned against us?" Madame Hooch asked, tears in her eyes.

"Wait a moment." Mr. Flansberg narrowed his eyes. "Did anyone else notice that, while his beard is moving, his lips aren't?"

"This is hardly the time to bring up a sensitive issue like Hagrid's freakish speech impediment." Professor Sprout gave him a dirty look.

"Twigethula, it's not a speech impediment. He's Scottish." Binns gave her an exasperated look.

"Now you shall die!"

Everyone saw it this time.

"Why, I do believe you're right, Paul." Professor Flitwick commented before being stepped on again.

"Well, let's give this a try!" Professor Sprout reached into her robes and pulled out a small phial of magical insect repellant made by Snape. "Be gone, foul beard worm!"

She splashed the contents of the potion onto Hagrid's face and the giant erupted into screams as hissing and steam issued from his facial hair. As he writhed about in agony, the beard on his face, along with his hair, sprang up into the air and floated delicately as a bald Hagrid collapsed to the ground.

"Good riddance." Binns said, as he believed Hagrid had died. "No doubt the dearly departed Snape would be pleased he had something to do with Hagrid's death."

"Neither of those people are dead." Mr. Flansberg pointed out.

"Damn! I've been gunning for potions master since I died." Binns clenched his fist in a boring way.

"Die, beard maggot!" Madame Hooch screamed, beating the floating hair with her broom.

She felt outraged by the attitude of the professors toward those without PHDs. She would show them all by killing this thing.

The beard squealed in pain like a dinosaur, and then wrapped itself around the broom. It proceeded to the throw the broom, with Madame Hooch attached, over the battlements.

"Hagrid, you bastaaaaard!" She screamed as she vanished over the wall.

"Ugh. Women. Great at dancing naked, but as soon as it comes to killing they're no use at all." Binns commented dryly.

"I've noticed, professor, that you've become a lot less pleasant as of late." Professor Sprout observed aloud.

"I miss Peeves." Binns hung his ghostly head. "He made me tolerable by comparison."

"Magic has its place, but I think it would be better to take care of this now." Mr. Flansberg muttered, taking out a lighter and lighting the beard on fire.

The beard caught on fire instantly, the flame fueled by Sprout's insect poison. In a mere matter of seconds, the seven pounds of hair burned to oblivion, leaving nary a trace of its ever having been.

"Are you alright, Martin?" Professor Sprout helped the little guy to his feet.

"I've been better. How about Hagrid?"

"I feel nekked." Hagrid moaned, killing a nearby squirrel and putting it on his head.

"I thought you liked animals."

"Screw the animals! I'm bald!" Hagrid started weeping.

"What the hell was that thing?" Mr. Flansberg muttered.

"A beard worm." Professor Sprout beamed. "It implants itself into the host's head posing as a beard, but takes over the host's motor functions. In essence, the spy at Hogwarts was Hagrid all along."

"Well, that was disappointing and anti-climactic." Mr. Flansberg shook his head.

"That explains why Mr. Hagrid was constantly rifling through Dumbledore's garbage and sending mysterious letters in 'Top Secret' envelopes. I just assumed it was a product of Mr. Hagrid's freakish adoration for Albus." Professor Binns mused.

"Shall we join the battle?" Flitwick took out his wand, clearly intending his question to be an invitation.

"What? No! We were told to wait here and hold down the fort." Mr. Flansberg objected.

"Ripping!" Professor Flitwick ran off.

"Wait!" Mr. Flansberg felt a cold chill in his gut.

"C'mon Paul! Now th' real fun begins." Hagrid recovered, scooping up Mr. Flansberg and running with thunderous steps to the battlefield.

"I don't think I'd do very well. I can't do magic." Mr. Flansberg protested.

"Nonsense! You defeated that evil parasite demon that was controlling my mind and body." Hagrid smiled winningly.

"But that was hair!"

His protests fell on deaf ears as he and the remaining professors went to battle.


	33. The Surprise Ending

**Chapter Thirty: The Surprise Ending**

Squelch!

"Hooray! We killed the last one." Bridgit cheered as the final dementor was felled.

"Good thing, too. We're down to our last ten mole warriors." Cora relaxed.

It had been a close call.

"Are you guys up for some more battling?" Bridgit asked the remaining mole warriors politely, knowing Neville's grandmother was up for anything that involved violence.

"Of course we are. As bachelors, we are the scum of our society and at your service." The mole warriors bowed.

"Very well, then. Onwards! To destroy the Deatheaters!" Cora lead the charge.

With a mighty, if not noticeably diminished, roar, the small force charged toward the final battlefield ready to fight, if need be, to the death.

* * *

"Mwa ha ha ha ha!" Voldemort laughed, a cold, high-pitched sound. "Can't you see? Your lives mean _nothing_ to me. Killing you causes me no more thought than killing an insect."

"Hermione! HERMIONE! Can you hear me? Say something!" Ron yelled, shaking Hermione's body with a strength born of desperation.

Harry was just staring at Hermione, a blank look in his eyes.

"HERMIONE!"

"She can't-"

"HERMIONE!"

"I said, she can't-"

"HERMIONE!"

"Shut up!" Voldemort roared. "Not only have you denied my glory on too many occasions, but now you won't even afford me my moment of triumphant gloating. No more! I shall kill you, and then your ruination of my dramatic devices shall be forever ceased.

"Harry, it's no good." Ron shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "You have to avenge Hermione. You can mourn later."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Not that I won't avenge her, but what about you?"

"I'm busy right now." Ron then broke out sobbing, hugging her corpse close in the throes of his despair.

"Don't worry, Ron. I'll take care of it."

Harry regained his feet, glaring so darkly at Voldemort that the dark lord almost felt a twinge of unease. Luckily the boy, he knew, was a sorry sod of a student.

"Let's end this." Harry seethed.

Voldemort only smiled in reply, bringing his wand to the ready.

* * *

_Oh, God, please don't let them see me. Oh, God, please don't let them see me_. Mr. Flansberg prayed silently, eyes squeezed shut.

_If only it weren't so damn hot and stuffy in here._

In an effort to stay alive during the magical battle, he had crawled up Hagrid's back and was hiding under his exhumed moleskin overcoat. This caused the giant to become even more unsightly as he appeared to have an uneven hunchback. Hagrid, unaware of his new parasite, continued stomping through the battlefield using his pink umbrella without resignation. For some strange reason, any Deatheaters seemed unable to hit him with any magic.

"I can' believe I'm no' dead yet." Hagrid mused aloud. "Mebbe my shiny new 'ead mus' be lucky."

STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

* * *

"In my day, battles were far more civil than this." Binns relentlessly followed and bored a Deatheater. "You would stop for tea at noon and never welch on a gentleman's bet."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin! It's not worth it!" The Deatheater finally snapped and ended his own life.

"Excellent." Binns smiled with droopy eyes. "Now for the next one."

* * *

"Go forth, The Audrey! And feed on the flesh of our enemies!" Madame Sprout boomed, flinging open the locked doors of the greenhouses.

Riding on a great, mossy hedge, she led her produce combatants into the fray.

* * *

"_Philos Gigantus_!" Flitwick waved his tiny arms in a rapid flurry.

His spell hit yet another unsuspecting Deatheater.

"Martin! I worship you!" The Deatheater fell to his knees, reaching out longingly towards the one he desired.

"And once I die, we shall be together again." Flitwick sighed, chopping the Deatheater's shins off with a chainsaw. "Now sit there await death's tender embrace."

"Yes, my love."

"Stop right there!" An unmistakably Spanish-accented voice called out.

"Who are you?" The evil professor whirled around.

"My name is Antigo Montoyez. You killed my brother, who was the captain of the hearing club. Prepare to die." The Deatheater ripped his mask off, eager for vengeance.

"That line is so trite, it must be from a movie." Flitwick sighed, rubbing his temples. "Very well, then, we shall duel. However, I must warn you that I-"

He was stopped mid-brag by a high grade freezing spell. Enveloped in a thick crystal of ice, Flitwick was killed instantly.

The Deatheater smiled bitterly.

"Frosted lucky charms. They're magically delicious." He took a moment to savor his revenge and then, purpose filled, walked off the battlefield.

* * *

"Well, I see that _someone_ is monopolizing all of the killing." Cora sighed irately, watching the blood tornado that was Dumbledore dismember more and more Deatheaters.

"Bridgit! Cora! If you're here to help, then get cracking!" Sammy barked.

Bridgit was about to object to being yelled at, but, sizing up the situation, realized they were in desperate need for a more substantial defensive force.

As they assumed a defensive posture, Dumbledore suddenly stopped for a moment and shuddered. His gaze lifted to a specific location and when he spoke, it was quiet and urgent.

"I believe our young Mr. Potter is in danger." He noted.

"Why? Did they find his hiding- oh, crap. He's not hiding, is he?" Sammy felt like pulling her own hair out.

"It looks like he's over there with that snake-like guy." Reagan noted.

"That's Voldemort, dear." Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder.

"Oh." He shuddered. "I thought it was just some horrible mutant."

"Your assistance here is no longer required, students. It appears that Tigerlily and Minnerva have just conveniently arrived from having taken care of their zombies." Dumbledore nodded towards the two educators who had just come up to stand beside him.

"I…hate…zombies." McGonagall panted, quite out of breath from so much stabbing.

"What's going on?" Summersong asked, trying to assess the situation.

"Well, I'm just about to send these four to help young Mr. Potter against Voldemort." Dumbledore calmly explained.

"What?"

"Sure. We'll be back in five." Sammy grunted, running off with the others in tow.

"Voldemort doesn't stand a chance!" Cora laughed.

"Hang on, Harry, we'll save you!" Bridgit roared.

"Damn it!" Summersong hissed, charging after them.

"_Immobulus_!" Dumbledore cast a spell on her.

"What the hell, Albus?" She demanded through clenched teeth, unable to move most of her face.

"I need you here. Whatever personal past vendettas you may have must wait for later." He gave her a warning look.

"That's _not_ what this is about. We can't let them face Voldemort! They're children!" She spoke at an impressive volume considering she couldn't move.

"Exactly!" Dumbledore smiled with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "As the late Mr. Weaseley often said, "children are protected by angels. It's very scientific, really.""

"Ron is dead?" Professor Summersong sounded shocked.

Dumbledore paused. "I assumed that, within that pile of dead Rons, surely one had to be the real one."

"It's Minnerva, Ablus. I think she may be a little-"

"Oh, so you _need_ her do you?" McGonagall interrupted in a huff, taking this confusingly cryptic conversation as proof of yet another affair.

"Save it for later. There's work to be done." Dumbledore released Professor Summersong from his spell and resumed his destructive rampage in order to avoid McGonagall's prying questions.

Unable to abandon the headmaster, Summersong fought on grimly all the while knowing children were not protected by any angels. At least not today.

* * *

"I'm telling you, the floo network is broken!" Statey L'obvious, Head Girl of Slytherin stamped her foot.

"Shut it!" Bruce Dick, Head Boy, snapped. You can guess what the children called him. "Right, who wants to go home next?"

The students at the front of the line backed away as eager students from the back of the line all crowded forwards.

"Why are we running away, anyway? Aren't we all on the side of evil?" Cecil Patterdish posed his question.

"Yes, we are. But we're also all chicken shits." Statey answered.

"I want to go home!" A little Slytherin boy named Zzargle Z. Zorenson rushed forwards.

"A lot of fight in this one. I like that." Bruce nodded.

"Don't do it." Statey warned him.

"Shut up."

"Oh, why the hell not?" Statey gave in and shoved Zzargle into the fireplace.

His screams quickly gave way to silence as the pile of ash in the bottom of the fireplace grew larger.

"I _told_ you it's broken! The Dark Lord shut it down so that none could escape. Didn't your parents tell you anything? Every student you've pushed in has been consumed by the flames." Statey gave Bruce an exasperated look.

"Well, if we're all stuck here anyway…" Malfoy drawled.

He walked up to the nearest painting and pulled it from the wall. Everyone followed suit and soon all students across all houses were united as one in their quest to loot the castle Hogwarts.

* * *

Ron sat next to Hermione, cradling her head as her body grew colder.

"I thought you said we would mourn later." Harry gave Ron a pointed look, figuring five minutes was enough time to get it out of his system.

"I said _you_ could mourn later. I'm a little busy right now." He resumed sobbing.

"Fine then!" Harry rose to meet Voldemort's challenge and the spells began to fly as this long awaited confrontation between good and evil began.

* * *

"Where to first? Looks like Ron and Hermione might be in trouble." Bridgit noticed that Hermione was down and likely injured as the four friends arrived upon the scene.

"Oh no! I'll go and look after those two. You guys help Harry and I'll meet up with you after I know Hermione and Ron are okay." Reagan broke out of formation and ran toward the two.

"Reagan's right. Voldemort is, in a way, the source of their power. If we defeated him, the army would likely retreat. We have to take him out, no matter what the cost!" Sammy offered up her strategy.

"Cut the head off a snake and render it harmless." Bridgit said wisely.

"Stop using stupid metaphors! Let's get to work." Cora cut through their banter.

As they approached Harry, there was a temporary ceasefire as Voldemort took in this new situation and Harry took a breather.

"Are you okay?" Bridgit asked him, noticing that he was quite cut up and panting heavily.

"Fine." He answered curtly. "You guys should run. No need for you to get involved."

"Oh, yes there is." Cora ignored him and pushed her way in front to face Voldemort.

Her bravado was just that. His horrendous reputation preceding him, she felt so nervous that it was all she could do to stop herself from visibly shaking and vomiting. Also, she didn't like snakes very much.

"Picking on children, eh?" Cora demanded.

"He's no less a child than you three." Voldemort replied.

"Yeah…well…your face." Cora offered her crippled rebuttal.

"Cora, duck!" Sammy roared.

Already prepared for action, Cora dropped to the ground as Sammy cast a spell. Voldemort easily blocked it and laughed again.

"Hang on! We're coming!" They turned to see Neville's grandmother, grandson clutched in her arms, running towards them with the mole force in tow.

"It seems, here at Hogwarts, public living has destroyed your sense of privacy." Voldemort growled.

He raised his arms above his head and, with a single, thunderous clap, raised a ring of fire around them.

"No more interference." He narrowed his eyes, smiling in evil delight.

"Get out of the way." Harry pushed Cora back towards Sammy and Bridgit. "This is _my_ fight. I must avenge my parent's death and that of Mary Sue and dear Hermione."

"Hermione's dead?" Bridgit looked at Cora in shock.

Cora looked back through the ring of fire at a sobbing Ron, and saw Reagan shake his head sadly.

"Uhhh…no. She looks like she'll get better, Harry. Why don't you let us do the avenging?" She suggested.

"Never! Voldemort, by the love that still binds me to my family and fallen comrades, I will destroy you!"

He charged at the monster, screaming the battle cry of a ten-year-old girl.

"Your mother's love can no longer protect you, boy, and your friends are beyond your reach now." He laughed again.

In a sweep of primal rage, Harry raised his wand.

"_Expelliarimus_!"

Voldemort easily stepped out of the way. Angered as he was, Harry's actions were large and predictable, as always.

"_Immobulous_!"

Laughing, Voldemort deflected the spell.

"Don't you see, boy? You are nothing!"

"You're wrong!" Harry shouted back.

"Then die!" Voldemort roared. "I will not tolerate another second of this."

With a flick of his wand, Voldemort caused Harry's glasses to leap off of his face and skitter to the ground.

"Now you can no longer see nor run."

"I don't need to see to destroy you!" Harry stepped forward, glaring, but happened to step on his glasses.

There was a crunch of shattering glass and Harry felt a sharp pain in his foot. He fell over, realizing with a lurch that a number of glass shards were embedded in the sole of his foot. Now, he could no longer run…for reals this time. Why the hell did England use shearing glasses in glasses anyway?

"I shall enjoy this." Voldemort raised his wand for the finishing blow.

Before he could cast the spell, Sammy, having snuck up behind him, pinned the dark lord's spindly arms behind his head, causing the spell to fly harmlessly into the night sky.

"Quickly! Get Harry to safety!" She shouted.

"There's nowhere safe! We're in a ring of fire!" Cora screamed back.

"Well, think of something! I already acted on my only bright idea."

"No! I will not be robbed of my moment of glory when the death of the boy who has made my life agony is so close." Voldemort struggled against Sammy's grip.

Bridgit, who had been reflecting on how worm-like Voldemort's complexion was, had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"_Metamorpheus_!" She cast a spell that encased Harry in an impenetrable cocoon. The only way to reach Harry now was for her to cast the counter-spell. Or for her to be killed… Voldemort, seeing his chances of revenge on Harry potentially destroyed, felt the rage of everything he had waited for through those long years slip through his fingers.

"No! I won't be robbed of my revenge!" Voldemort cast a silent spell and a wave of energy emitted from his body.

The wave slammed into Bridgit, Cora and Sammy throwing them all back. Bridgit and Cora slid painfully over the dirt and gravel while Sammy did not fare so well. Thrown into the wall of fire, she was propelled upwards and bounced up and down in the dancing flames like a hotdog-smelling marionette. By the time she landed outside the ring of fire she wasn't moving anymore.

"SAMMY!" Reagan shrieked, running to her side, tears streaming down his face.

"Ah, young love." Voldemort reminisced.

Horrified, Bridgit and Cora stared numbly at the scene behind them. Sammy was almost burned beyond recognition and Reagan was trying desperately to pull her back from the brink of death. So engrossed in this, they completely ignored Voldemort.

He was kicking the cocoon Harry was in.

"Open up, damn you! I will not let this rob me of my revenge!"

In utter fury, he lifted the cocoon above his head and threw it with all his might at the fire ring encircling them. The cocoon bounced off of the firewall and hit him in the head. The weight was too much and Voldemort fell over in a most undignified way.

"Bridgit! Cora! Get back to work! Your job's not finished here." Reagan barked at them, motivating them back into paying attention instead of rubber necking.

Bridgit shook off her emotional shock first and took this rare opportunity to deal a stunning blow.

"_Accio Voldemort's wand_!" She shouted, for lack of a better spell.

Having the wand in her grasp, she snapped it in two and threw it into the fire.

"Noooo! Damn you!" Voldemort howled in rage.

"All right!" Bridgit and Cora exchanged mid-air high fives.

"Now that his wand's gone, he can't do anything!" Bridgit cheered.

"We are so awesome." Cora smiled.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Voldemort laughed.

"Yeah, it is funny when you look at the big picture, isn't it?" Bridgit mused.

Instead of replying, a jet of lightning shot from the end of his finger and narrowly missed striking Bridgit.

"What the hell? That shouldn't have happened!" Cora screamed.

"Yeah. British wizards need to amplify their magic with wands! And we broke yours." Bridgit was, as always, tremendously confused.

"That is often true. However, finding a wand a potential handicap, I also bound myself to a magical animal." Voldemort explained. "Just for situations like this."

He chuckled coldly.

"Also, I find that I like to have something in common with…my offspring." He gave them a cunning look.

Bridgit and Cora stared blankly at him.

"Ah, I see you are shocked by my dramatic reveal!" Voldemort crowed.

"What?" Cora couldn't quite grasp it.

"I don't get it." Bridgit whined.

"It is quite simple, really. Bridgit…I am your father!" Voldemort yelled.

"WHAT?"

"And Cora is your sister!" He continued.

"Oh. Well, I already knew that." Bridgit relaxed.

"Well, I DIDN'T!" Cora screamed.

"Yes, I realized it when you were able to reach my innermost sanctum back in Castle Mount Snakepit. For, you see, that room has an enchantment such that only one with my blood can enter. All others would be destroyed." In a strange display of paternal blindness, he glazed over their stupidity with the rest of his inane story.

"Wow, Bridgit. I can't believe you're my sister!" Cora smiled warmly at her lifelong friend.

"In my heart, I always knew it was the truth!" Bridgit and Cora embraced.

"Enough! Now that you know the truth, you will join me. Together we can destroy Potter and rule the wizarding world as father and daughters!" Voldemort offered them the world, arm outstretched in a symbolic and highly plagiarized gesture.

"Are you serious?" Cora gave him a look.

"Who'd want to rule over all those idiots? Too much work!" Bridgit was tired just thinking of it.

"I see." Voldemort's face fell a little. "Well, it can't be helped. You're also your mother's children, and she was chronically lazy. Too bad for you."

"We may be lazy, but we know magic!" Bridgit shot back.

"Oh? You still wish to challenge me?" He raised an eyebrow, highly unamused.

Instead of answering, they resorted to cheating, something that made his heart slightly swell with pride. At least they weren't complete goody two shoes.

"_Lapsus Labi_!" Cora cast a quick spell, causing Voldemort's helmet to slide down over his eyes.

Momentarily distracted, Bridgit levitated the giant cocoon and flung it at the Dark Lord with all her might.

PING!

The cocoon rebounded off of an invisible something and went flying backwards to bounce off of the firewall and land with a thud on the ground.

"My magical helmet protects me from all manner of physical attacks. Unless you think you can out-magic me, I suggest you surrender to a quiet and dignified execution." Voldemort hissed.

"But I'm your daughter!" Bridgit was appalled.

"I never said I was a good father."

"Did someone say 'Godfather'?" A three-legged dog fell from the sky into the ring of fire.

"Oh my god! It's that talking dog I told you not to kill!" Cora's eyes bugged out.

"I told you we should have done it while we had the chance." Bridgit hissed.

The dog suddenly morphed into some kind of hobo.

"Oh my god!" Cora sobbed. "It's evolved."

"I'm an animagus, you idiot. Don't they teach you anything in school? No matter! I'll help you save my Godson and defeat Voldemort. My name is Sirius Black!" He jumped out of the way as Voldemort cast a cruciatus curse at him.

"I thought all of Harry's family was dead." Bridgit was surprised.

"Well, they must be like cockroaches. Impossible to kill all of them." Cora sighed.

"I can't believe you two! You'd be so good at evil!" Voldemort growled, casting the killing curse at Sirius.

"Tch! How about picking a new spell? That one's gone out of style!" Sirius gave a rougish grin.

"Fine. _Solumi missileis_!" Voldemort almost fell forwards from the vigor with which he cast the spell.

"Ayeeeeeeee!" Sirius screamed as the ground beneath his feet exploded and sent him flying back over the wall of fire.

Taking advantage of this distraction and inspired by Sirius breaking the law as an unregistered animagus, Bridgit snapped into action.

"_Imperio_!"

She could feel herself trying to keep his slimy snake brain under control. However, he was cunning and his mind was quite strong. Too strong.

"Ugh! It's not working!" Bridgit cried as she felt his mind trying to kick her out.

"I'll help you, sister Bridgit!" Cora shouted. "_Imperio_!"

Struggling with all of the mental powers they were lucky enough to possess, Bridgit and Cora managed to keep his mind beneath theirs long enough to force Voldemort to remove his helmet and toss it into the flames. The helmet and the corpse of his beloved Nagini were consumed within moments.

"You little strumpets!" He roared, forcing them from his mind so abruptly that they fell backwards in surprise. "How dare you destroy such a beautiful creature? Blood or no, your lives are mine!"

"Bridgit! Plan 64 C!" Cora snapped.

"What? Surrender? We just got him to kill his helmet thing! Now we can totally…ummm…uhhh…do something…" Bridgit's voice trailed off.

"Exactly."

Voldemort watched curiously, still ready to kill his children should they trick him.

"This is way too hard." Cora sighed. "I don't like where it leaves us, but I think we need to give up. We can't beat him, Bridgit. Let's just give him Harry in exchange for our lives."

"What? NO!" Ron screamed from outside.

"Bridgit, if you agree with her I'm going to disown you." Reagan seethed.

"Sorry guys. I kind of like being alive." Bridgit looked down at the ground. "I know it's not the right thing to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"I'm no fool," Voldemort began, "and I suspect a trick. We shall see."

"I lie and cheat and steal, but I always do it for me. You can search my mind and find out for yourself that I'm telling the truth. Dying for some famous kid is not worth it." Cora spread her arms open, inviting him symbolically.

"Very well. Yes, I see. Your mind is truly selfish and manipulative, but I find a disturbing tendency to show loyalty towards those you hold dear. I think you're lying." Voldemort frowned.

"Now, Bridgit! Kick him!" Cora cried.

"You're gonna feel this tomorrow!" Bridgit shouted, groining him in the old mans.

"Ohhhhhh….mother of mercy." Voldemort moaned, sinking to the ground. "Why?"

"Didn't anyone ever tell you?" Bridgit laughed coldly.

"We're evil." Cora finished.

"You can't kill me, you don't have it in you. After all, you walked right past me while I slept at Castle Mount Snake Pit. If you could have, why not then?" Voldemort hissed.

Bridgit and Cora stopped, utterly speechless. They had been so terrified of him waking up that this possibility hadn't even crossed their minds. Bridgit in particular felt like a giant idiot. She had even poisoned the snake sleeping around his neck with a blow dart. A little more to the left and none of this would have ever happened.

"I see the hesitation in your eyes! You truly long for the ways of evil." Voldemort smiled coldly.

"Maybe I really do!" Bridgit wondered aloud. How could she have possibly missed that opportunity unless she was secretly wishing for a posh, evil lifestyle. It was all well and good for Cora, what with her muggle-saving tendencies and childhood of living in cardboard boxes.

"Huh." Cora mused to herself. _Maybe I knew by some deep, primal bond that he was my father. Maybe I want a daddy really bad._ _But I don't like snakes_.

"Cora?" Bridgit looked searchingly at her sister.

"Yes Bridgit, I think it's time." Cora smiled and nodded her head, ready to be at peace.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" The two cast at the same time.

Voldemort fell back to the ground, as lifeless as his shed skin, before surprise could even register at this turnaround. His shiny red eyes turned dull and the ring of fire collapsed.

_You may have killed me, but you have taken your first step down the path of darkness._ Voldemort's spirit voice whispered. _My blood is inside you and it is only a matter of time before you take my place._

Then his body exploded. As chunks of flesh rained down upon everyone there arose a great cheer from the battlers of Hogwarts. As suspected, most of the Deatheaters fled while the more hardcore ones stayed behind to battle and be killed by Dumbledore. Sensing an end to the danger, Bridgit let Harry out of his protective cocoon.

"_Reparo_." Bridgit gave him back his glasses as Cora pulled the shards from his foot.

"What the hell?" Harry asked, somewhat disappointed. "I thought I was supposed to kill Voldemort. If not, then what was all this crap about for the last four years?"

"Your life just sucks, Harry." Cora smiled.

"No, that's not it!" Bridgit whacked her upside the head. "You're a good soul, Harry. You weren't meant to do that evil. I'm sure your dead parents are happy Voldemort was destroyed without you having to resort to killing."

"I suppose so. But what about you?"

"Well, I guess we're just evil." Bridgit sighed.

"No fighting it." Cora giggled.

"Well, that explains a whole lot." Said a familiar voice.

"HERMIONE!" Harry boggled his eyes.

"You're alive?" Cora asked as Ron enveloped her in a loving hug of relief.

"Didn't I tell you? Children are protected by angels!" He gave Hermione a kiss on the forehead as he sobbed in joy.

"I never told you, Ron, but I, too believe in angels. Which is why I'm magically alive right now." Hermione smiled tenderly, stroking her sobbing boyfriend's flaming red hair.

"Why, this defies all logic!" Malfoy, who had been passing by, noted.

They all turned to look at the pale blond who was clearly absconding with many of the castle's treasures.

"Too bad you forsook your childhood for your father's love." Cora shook her head.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" Bridgit killed him.

Everyone looked at Malfoy's dead body and then burst out laughing.

"I'm in so much pain." Sammy moaned, her burnt body swathed in miles of bandages.

Everyone continued laughing.

Dumbledore and the teachers approached at a dead run.

"Well done, children!" Dumbledore laughed merrily and tripped over his beard.

"Professor!" Everyone smiled.

"What are our losses?" Bridgit asked.

"Just one, really. A few people seemed to be dead, but they're all fine now. Only Trelawney died and, strangely enough, has agreed to come back and teach as a ghost for the rest of eternity for free, so it's really more of a gain." Dumbledore mused, hefting a dead snake from his shoulder onto the ground.

"What's that?" Ron pointed.

"That's a snake, Ron. Can you say 'snake'?" Hermione encouraged.

"Snake!"

"This is the reason we were able to succeed." Dumbledore ignored the frightening couple. "Our intelligence told us that, after the death of Voldemort's trusted Nagini, he went out and bought a new snake: Ganini."

There was a pause.

"And?" McGonagall prompted him.

"We figured this was beyond his regular love of snakes and that he had bound himself to her as his animal companion. Once I found and killed her, it was much easier for you guys to actually beat him."

"Oh. You mean our canning was-"

"Ineffective, yes."

"Ah. Right then." Bridgit was somewhat disappointed at this news.

"Albus, now that this whole mess is over, I have some things I want to talk to you about." Summersong snapped, storming up to him and beginning a secret conversation where the rest couldn't hear.

"If this is about how I knew all along that Bridgit and Cora were your long lost daughters, I can explain everything." Dumbledore put his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"What? My daughters! They're alive? Well, I was going to object at how you treated foreign exchange students as pure distractions and sacrificial lambs to Voldemort, but that just makes me even more angry!" She raged.

"But…but, don't you want to hear my oh so logical and forgettable explanation that will clear all this up?" Dumbledore offered.

"Hells no! And if it weren't for the fact you were pregnant, I would beat you up right now!" She glared at him.

"Good. All is forgiven."

Dumbledore turned around to continue his not secret conversation with the rest of the assembled group who had been looking on curiously.

"Now I do believe that you two have someone else to attend to." Dumbledore smiled knowingly at Bridgit and Cora, quickly changing the topic.

"Who?" Bridgit asked.

"Sammy's being looked after by someone else." Cora added.

"It starts with an 'S'." Dumbledore gave them a hint.

"Sirius?"

"No, he's fine, despite curiously having only one leg."

"Sybill?"

"I already told you; she's dead!" Dumbledore seemed to be running out of patience.

"It must be something completely obvious that we're over looking." Cora thought to herself.

"Wait! I know. We forgot about the power of love." Bridgit beamed. "It has truly saved us all."

"You two are so stupid." McGonagall sighed.

"I refer, of course, to the reason you two went to Voldemort's Castle Mount Snakepit in the first place. One Severus-"

"Snape!" Bridgit and Cora exclaimed.

"Holy crap! We forgot to give him the medicine." Bridgit moaned.

"Quickly, children, I know the way!" Madame Pomfrey put away her euthanasia kit and led the two back toward the castle.

"Well, all's well that ends well." Trelawney smiled mysteriously.

"It didn't end well for you. You're dead." A bald Hagrid pointed out.

"Oh."

**The END. Yay!**

"Well, it seems that, at the end of this year, the house with the most points is Hufflepuff!" Dumbledore announced grandly at the end of year ceremonies.

The students at the Hufflepuff table looked around, mightily confused as to how this could have happened.

"Oh my! This is the first time in the history of Hogwart's that Hufflepuff has ever won the house cup. I know because I read about it in Hogwart's: A History (Wizzledee-dee 495)." Hermione puffed up, overflowing with knowledge.

"Well, let's see." Harry began. "Slytherin lost like a million points at the beginning of the year when Crabbe and Goyle were expelled and, thanks to a certain two people, Gryffindor has steadily been losing points all year." Bridgit and Cora gave apathetic shrugs in response to his pointed look. "That, and the fact that Ravenclaw has been mysteriously losing points for no reason, has resulted in Hufflepuff's dominating win of two points."

"Ravenclaw, huh? I guess we'll never know." Sammy laughed.

"However, I have some last-minute points to award for students who have shown immense bravery in-"

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Professor Sprout screeched at the Headmaster. "This is the one and only time I'm ever going to win! I won't let you take that away from me! Unless you want your unborn freak babies to fry, I recommend that you shut up right now." She whispered.

"Uhhh…I award the points to…that kid. Over there." Dumbledore pointed to the Hufflepuff table.

"I won!" The Hufflepuff boy cheered.

Snape raised an eyebrow angrily. _Why didn't I think of that?_

"R-right! Everyone, let's ea- oh my!" Dumbledore's hand flew to his belly.

"What is it?" Professor McGonagall perked up in confusion.

"Nothing. Probably just that tub of bean dip I ate last night. Oh! There it is again."

"He's going into labor!" Madame Pomfrey screamed.

Amidst the many confused looks of the student body, Dumbledore was rushed from the room by Madame Pomfrey, followed by McGonagall and Hagrid.

"Now that I am acting Headmaster," Snape suddenly stood up, "there are going to be a few changes."

"Nobody said you were acting headmaster." Mr. Flansberg piped up.

"Silence, Technology Institute degree program guy!" Snape hissed.

"That's not where I got my degree." Mr. Flansberg wept.

"My first act as headmaster is to instate Professor Binns as second in command and to ban all candy." He briefly looked nauseous at the idea of it, "Also, anyone caught sneaking around after hours will be given the death penalty without exception, Mr. Potter. While I'm at it, as your new Daddy, I forbid you to play on the quidditch team. In fact, Hogwarts is right out. Go be a dentist!"

"Why is it always me?" Harry whispered.

"Don't worry, Harry, my father can give you a good internship." Hermoine offered this paltry comfort.

"Yeah, we'll write you…well, when we have the time." Ron smiled unconvincingly.

"Any foreign exchange programs are hereby terminated. Indefinitely. Also, any Hogwarts student or faculty member is disallowed from any communication with Canada. That is all. Eat your wretched food." Snape finished and then sat down.

Harry cried into his soup.

Everyone else cheered, as the non-Daddy rules were sorely needed. Bridgit and Cora looked relieved that they would never have to talk to these people again.

"Well, I guess we should probably clear out, guys." Sammy stood.

"Will we ever see you again?" Harry asked, teary-eyed.

"Hmmm…" Sammy ruffled his hair affectionately and smiled. "No."

And they left out the front doors of Hogwarts. However, they were soon distracted by a loud crunching and slurping noise.

"What could it be?" Reagan asked.

"Someone feasting on the souls of children?" Bridgit guessed.

"Oh, hey guys!" Sirius Black hailed them.

"Have you been squatting here ever since the final battle?" Cora gave him an incredulous look.

"Well, you know." He shrugged. "Gotta look after the godson."

He continued ripping into a rather large drumstick while the four tactfully neglected to mention Snape's newly-acquired status as Harry's legal guardian.

"You know, there's food in the Great Hall." Reagan offered with a smile.

"No. This is a symbolic meal that I must finish out here. For today, I am a free man. No longer must I run and live like a hobo, hunted by those who were my peers." He said proudly.

"What are you eating?" Bridgit asked nervously, kind of afraid of what it might be.

"I'm eating Buckbeak, my Hippogriff in a gesture expressing my freedom and return to normal life. But if you try to eat any, then I'll cut you!" He took out a small knife and made jabbing motions.

"No. We're good." Sammy said and motioned for them all to continue.

Having become very lazy, the four summoned their belongings and animals with magic. With everything together, they were somewhat at a loss.

"What now?" Cora asked.

"Well, Trex said he'd come and pick us up today." Sammy offered. "I guess we just wait."

"IT'S A BOY!" A magically amplified voice announced. "AND IT'S. WAIT. WHAT THE HELL? WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE HAGRID? ALBUSSSSSS!" The magic cut out abruptly.

The four exchanged confused and disgusted looks.

"Let's not worry about that anymore." Sammy suggested.

"I agree!" Said Trex, striding to stand before them with Professor Summersong at his arm. "I have something much more interesting and much less disturbing to announce to you all today: I have been married to this woman."

"Seriously?" Sammy gave Trex an exasperated look.

"That seems quite random. When did you guys even meet?" Reagan asked.

"Well, we met on the internet." Professor Summersong blushed. "I was spidery_widow_666 and I met the most enchanting man named lustypirate67. We were married last week by corporal Robotface of the Binary church of Antarctica. We have so much in common! His wife was killed by the war that my husband started."

"It really comes full circle, doesn't it sweetie? And to think: I've pretty much been raising your children all these years." Trex mused.

"What? You had other children you didn't tell us about?" Cora demanded angrily.

"No, Cora. For you see, you are both my daughters." Summersong beamed as she revealed the truth.

"Wow. This is pretty stupid." Bridgit muttered.

"Mommy!" Cora unquestioningly accepted this news and ran to her long-lost mother's arms. "I've always wanted a mommy to dress me up and tell me I can't date boys!"

"Good." Said Summersong. "Because you can't."

"You know…no one's explained yet how you two ended up in Canada if you were born in Britain. And how _both_ your parents didn't seem to know where you were, and that you were alive." Sammy pointed out. "I mean, people don't usually misplace babies on other continents."

"Shut up." Said Professor Summersong.

"Okay."

And they all laughed and disapparated into the setting sun to start their new, family-laced life in Canada.


End file.
